Brother's Path
by sarah-dipity42
Summary: Post-manga. When Vash dies following the events at Octovern, Knives is left to cope with the guilt. But he's distracted when the natives and the new Earth-controlled government fall into civil war. Knives wants to protect his sisters from the violence, but will he achieve his goals, or will his lingering prejudice against humans be his downfall?
1. Chapter 1 - An Unpleasant Morning

Author's Note:

This story is already written and I will be uploading a new chapter every weekend (probably Friday evenings). The finished story is at roughly 60k words, and is 22 chapters long.

Enjoy!

CHAPTER 1

An Unpleasant Morning

_Welcome to the NLBC Evening News. I'm Meryl Stryfe._

_In today's news, there was an attempted robbery in Augusta City. The man tried to rob a gun store, however, when he made his intentions clear, all of the employees and most of the customers reached into the display cases and pointed guns at the robber. He then surrendered to store employees, and it wasn't until after the authorities had been called and he had been handcuffed that he remembered that the guns in the display cases are left unloaded._

_In other news, there was an explosion outside Inepril yesterday evening. The culprits were a pair of bounty hunters who had procured explosives which they planned to use in their attempts to capture their bounties. While looking over their new explosives, one was accidentally detonated. Both men were injured and are currently hospitalized, but should recover quickly. Unauthorized use of explosives is illegal, and authorities are still determining where the men acquired them. When asked for comment, one of the two men said it was his partner's fault, but added that he was glad his partner was still alive, because, quote, "When we get out of the hospital, I'm going to punch him in the face."_

_Also in the news today, the outlaw Max Stetson who escaped from prison and has been on the run for three weeks, was captured today in the December City area. This is the third major criminal apprehended in the area in the past several months. The local sheriff says that there's a bounty hunter in the area who wishes to remain anonymous. He did add, however, that the bounty hunter donates the reward money to an orphanage located outside of December City._

_In a follow up of a previous story, the Earth Federation Peace Force has stated that while Vash will remain on the planet's Most Wanted list with a reward for his capture, they will no longer be actively pursuing him. Instead they will focus their efforts on the capture of Knives, and have stated that they will be instituting special methods to find and arrest him. The one year anniversary of Knives's defeat in Octovern City happened last month, and neither Knives nor Vash have been seen since the event. Some of you may recall that a few months after the conflict in Octovern a letter was submitted to the NLBC news station claiming to be from Knives. It stated that Vash had died from using the last of his plant energy while fleeing the city with Knives. While plant scientists have confirmed that it is a possible cause of death for a plant, the letter cannot be proven to be from Knives and may be a prank. However, extensive searches by authorities and by Vash's acquaintances have failed to find either of the brothers. _

_And, finally, our major headline of the night: protests continue in the Northwest region of the country as people take to the streets to condemn the Earth Federation government; however, today, these protests became violent as gunfire broke out between the protestors and the riot police on the scene. Several were killed and many more injured. As you may know, these protests have been occurring for some time, but recently grew in numbers when a rally was held a month ago on the one year anniversary of Knives's defeat. Protests have been daily since then, and there have been rumors of local militia being formed and of a strong desire by many in the area to secede from the Earth Federation._

_More on that story later. But first, we go to Doug for our business news report._

Millions Knives stepped out of a coffee shop with a cup in one hand and a sausage biscuit in the other. His eyes fell on a pair of policemen talking together across the street, and he turned on his heal and went inside the coffee shop again.

"I need a lid for my coffee," he said. "And a bag for the biscuit." He had meant to have his breakfast as he walked, but if running was in his near future, he needed his breakfast to be easier to carry.

As the employee provided his needs, Knives realized there was a small boy who had been staring at the selection of donuts and was now staring at Knives. When the two made eye contact, the boy jumped slightly.

Whispering, the boy said, "You look like the bad guy on the wanted posters."

Knives narrowed his eyes. He, too, whispered. "If you say anything else, I will kill you."

The boy gasped, going wide-eyed. Then he ran from the donut shop. Knives's expression remained unchanged on the outside. He was smiling on the inside.

Knives took his breakfast back and went for the door again. He paused before going out to see if the police were still there. They were. And the boy was talking to them.

"Damnit," Knives whispered.

_Log Entry:_

_I hate the police. Not long ago, when justice was in the hands of the local sheriff and a bunch of meat-headed bounty hunters, you could get away with murder. Literally. But now the Earth Federation has these stupid policemen all over the place. It's a nuisance. Being an outlaw is a nuisance. I wonder if Vash had problems like this._

_And you know what else I hate? Children. I hate children. There are so many reasons to hate children. (I wonder what Vash thought of children. He probably liked them, since they both have the same amount of maturity.)_

Knives slipped out of the door and walked quickly toward the nearby alleyway.

From behind him, he heard a voice call, "Sir? Sir!"

Knives pretended not to hear and rounded the corner. As soon as he did so, he ran for it.

Knives found himself running on occasion, but he was never running from humans. Not really. He was running from the hassle of causing a scene and blowing his cover while an outlaw. If anyone had suggested he was running from the humans themselves, Knives probably would have risked it and killed them. Or perhaps just punched them repeatedly. It was funny how, in the past, Knives preferred a quick, clean kill, but ever since he had begun living among humans, he found himself envisioning things more along the lines of slowly throttling people.

He could hear the policemen giving chase, and gave an extra push in his speed to round the next corner. When he did, he ducked into the nearest door he could. It was a small clothing shop. He ducked into the nearest corner and squatted there.

Knives wasn't completely sure, but he thought he heard footsteps stopping outside. Then he heard muffled voices.

The was a pause in which Knives assumed the police were wondering which business he had slipped into. Then the door opened and the policemen stepped inside. Knives realized there was a bell on the door and that they would hear him leaving, and see him if they turned around. But at the moment, they began scanning the room as they moved forward into the store.

It would be either life-saving, or embarrassingly stupid, but Knives impulsively decided to risk it. Crouching, he made for the door while it was still open, slipping by behind the backs of the policemen. He made it out before the door closed.

And then he ran for his life.

A few minutes later, Knives burst into the front door of a computer repair shop. He stopped to rest his hands on his knees and pant for breath.

"Kevin?" one of the employees said, "Did you, uh... Did you run the whole way here?"

"Yes," Knives answered breathlessly.

"Why?"

"Uh... alarm clock didn't go off this morning... thought I was going to be late."

The other laughed. "Well, you're fine, so don't worry. Hey, Jeff called in sick today, so can you take his calls? He was supposed to head out to an office this morning."

Knives straitened and headed wearily for his desk. _Yes, working two people's jobs is the perfect way to top off this morning._ "That's fine," he grumbled.

While computers were once machines found only within the remains of SEEDS ships and understood only by plant engineers, they had experienced a boom in production and popularity since the arrival of the rescue fleet. In fact, technology boomed in a variety of ways, and people with technological know-how were in high demand. Knives, or Kevin as he was known by those in town, was generally held in reserve for the toughest problems, the ones that left the other computer repairmen scratching their heads. Partly, this was because his coworkers believed that there was no problem Kevin couldn't eventually find a solution to, but also because he was a bit antisocial. "Grumpy" was a word that frequently came to the minds of his coworkers. It was usually better to send the friendlier technicians out first, and save Kevin for anything they couldn't work out a solution to.

But before starting in on his day's work, Knives took a moment to eat his breakfast.

_Log Entry:_

_I've gotten ahead of myself. I needed to get the police and child rant out of my system. This is a new log book, and so I should give an introduction in case the logs are misplaced and separated in the future._

_It has been over a year since the utter catastrophe that took place at Octovern City. I have been left with nothing. No purpose, no servants, and no family. My failure has resulted in a burned bridge between myself and my sisters. And as for Vash..._

_I'll get to Vash in a moment._

_But despite my failure, I won't regret the path I chose. I did what I felt was right at the time, based on the situation I saw and the knowledge I had. That is nothing to be ashamed of. It's true that those from Earth do treat plants with greater respect, as they should, but it seems to me that those who originated on this particular planet are cursed with incurable ignorance and stupidity. I did nothing wrong in trying to eliminate them. Any and all regret or shame comes from failure, and the consequences of that failure._

_Mostly, it comes from failing to be a brother to Vash._

_He is dead now. It's a blur in my mind, but I have the knowledge, despite the lack of clear memory, that we landed somewhere outside of Octovern and that his body disintegrated. It happened very quickly. I don't understand why it happened. The only thing I remember well is the sight of his red coat laying in my lap. That, and his gun were all that was left of him._

_The guilt and grief consumed me. Of all that was wrong in the world, this was the greatest, and it was my own fault. I was involved in so much of his energy use, that there's no doubt he wouldn't have died if we had been allies rather than enemies. I should have acted differently. I should have tried different tactics to win him over. I shouldn't have pushed him to use his power. I shouldn't have confronted him that one last time. I should have done a lot of things._

_As I struggled with all of this, it came to my mind more and more often that he had died before we could reconcile. I always assumed that sooner or later I would find a way to make him understand the world the way I saw it, and then everything would be fine. I never tried to understand him. He was wrong, and that was all I needed to know. Now I question if it was right for me to think that way. Perhaps if I had tried to understand him, then I would have known how to speak to him in a way that would get him to understand me. Or perhaps, if we each saw the other's point of view, we might have negotiated somehow. Or perhaps even (and this shows how much my mind was altered by grief), if I could see things from his point of view, I would see in humans what _he_ saw in them. I felt that I would rather be wrong and have my brother alive than to be right with Vash gone forever._

_During this time, I had no reason to live, but reason enough to hate myself, and I became very low and very desperate. In an effort to cope, I hit on a plan, a new mission to occupy myself with, now that my life's work had been thwarted. I'm going to understand Vash. It's belated, perhaps. But I feel somehow that if I could understand him, if I could connect with him in some way, if I could reconcile with him despite his absence, it will do me some kind of good._

_Thus far, I have done the following: I have taken measures to ensure that I will not use my angel arm. Vash was against the death of humans, and I know I have a habit of bad-tempered angel arm use. Also, Vash's death has driven home the dangers of a plant using up their power. I have kept Vash's gun and will use it as a weapon in place of my angel arm. I have also been living among humans for several months now. (Yes, several months among humans without killing anyone! I hope you're happy Vash! You have no idea what this is putting me through!)_

_I am also an outlaw, a trait I now share with Vash, although not by choice._

_I am keeping these logs to record the experiences that I have, and hopefully, to record anything that I learn about Vash through these experiences._

_(A note on a past experience, while I am at it. I have a vague notion of Vash having a love for donuts. I've visited a donut shop for breakfast several mornings now. I've learned the following: donuts make a terrible breakfast. They're far too sweet, especially for early morning. And all the sugar causes them to wear off quickly, and I'm hungry again before lunch time. However, the shop does have sausage biscuits, which I find to be an adequate breakfast. If Vash were alive, I hope he would find this compromise acceptable.)_

After work on most evenings, Knives would get something to eat and then go to the shooting range. He practiced diligently with Vash's gun, seeking the assurance that he would be able to use it well if it ever came to it. In a short time, he had come to be a fairly quick draw and good shot. Inwardly, he hated the thing. An angel arm was... smooth. Intuitive. Silent. Convenient. Guns were obnoxiously loud. And they kicked, which Knives initially found very jarring until he had gotten used to it. And they needed reloaded, and needed a holster. Knives felt like someone who had grown up as a swift runner, suddenly reduced to doing all travel via crab-walk. This was definitely a step backwards, and Knives was _not_ appreciative.

But tonight he had other plans. Due to all of the protests and violence that had been happening in the northwest, the president was going to give an address that evening. Knives knew that people and newspapers alike would put their own spin on the speech afterward, and Knives wanted to hear it himself to form his own opinions. He didn't care very much about whether they killed themselves over there or not, but would watch the address anyway. Perhaps it was because of his recent interest in humans in general. (After all, Vash would likely watch the address, since he cared about humans. He'd probably cry himself to sleep over the violent protests.) But Knives felt that it was really more of a morbid curiosity. Humans were currently acting very... human. And he thought it would be interesting to see where all of this was going.

So Knives went home from work that day and ate a simple dinner. Then, since he had no television himself to watch the broadcast on, he set out again in the dimming evening light.


	2. Chapter 2 - President and Assassin

CHAPTER 2

The President and the Assassin

Many homes, including Knives's small apartment, still did not have televisions. But word got around sometimes that something interesting would be broadcast, and those without would make an evening of heading out toward the nearest television to see what there was to see. Sometimes neighbors or extended family all gathered at a single house of someone lucky enough to own one. But many people simply went out to the local saloon, where they could catch the broadcast and get enjoyably drunk while doing so.

Upon walking in to the saloon, Knives wasn't entirely sure what to do with himself. The place smelled like beer and cigarettes, was dimly lit, and was crowded and loud. It was not the type of environment he was comfortable in.

He didn't drink alcohol and hoped he could slip in and out again without being required to buy a drink. There was a small empty table shoved back into a corner and Knives sat there, facing the rest of the saloon, partly to see the television decently and partly because, when in crowded places, he felt more secure with his back to a corner and the crowd in front of him.

The news was on prior to the president's address, although the volume was low and the murmur of the crowd was high, so Knives was unable to hear was was being said. He noted, though, that there was a different newscaster filling in for the usual young woman. What was her name? He could picture her perfectly in his head, with her short dark hair. Mary or Meredith or something. Last name Stryfe. He remembered that. Words like "strife" tended to stand out to him. But there was a substitute this time, and he wondered a little if Miss Stryfe was sick that day, although he didn't really care.

Despite not hearing what was being said, he watched the television because there was nothing else for him to occupy himself with. As he sat, he gained a growing feeling of discomfort, as if he were being watched. He glanced over the room, but didn't see anyone obviously watching him. He wondered if someone really was eyeing him, or if it was simply a subconscious worry that a waitress would see him and make him order a drink. Or worse, some friendly person might want to make small talk. He might just have to leave if it came to that.

But nothing happened. And then the news ended and the president's address began. The volume was turned up, and the crowd turned their attention to the television.

Someone from the crowd called out, "Five double dollars says the president tells a lie!"

This was greeted with laughter. Another responded, "Five says he makes a promise he never keeps!"

"Fifty double dollars says he's ugly!" This elicited the loudest roar of laughter. The president didn't look any different than any other ordinary man, but Knives had noticed that while human beings tended to be idiotic anyway, when on the topic of politics they became downright ridiculous.

"Well, _I_ never voted for him!"

"Yes you did!"

"I did not!"

"I went down the polls with you, you idiot!"

"Seriously, though, seriously," someone called, "Twenty double dollars says he doesn't try to cut any deals with the protestors, he just spews pro-Earth Federation propaganda!"

"No, no, he'll try to bargain with them! Or pretend to, anyway!"

"No he won't!"

"He's up for re-election next year! He'll suck up to them!"

"You taking the bet, then?"

"You're on!"

There was a rise in the noise from the crowd as others either placed bets as well, or generally jeered the president or those around them. Finally the bartender shouted, "Shut up, will ya! He's talking already!"

He was the same man who had been president prior to the arrival of the Earth fleet. When the planet was reconnected with Earth, No Man's Land became part of the Earth Federation, and the current government became a sub-government of sorts, presiding over the planet, but subject to laws and orders given by Earth. Knives didn't know much else about it other than that. He knew there had been some changes made, but more along the lines of new laws and new government departments, rather than new leadership. From what he gathered, the protestors would rather the government stayed exactly the way it had been for the last one hundred and fifty years.

The president rambled a bit as an introduction. Then the speech drew closer to the heart of the matter, saying that the government worked for the well-being of the people, that they were blessed to be connected to Earth once again, and that changes brought about by the Earth Federation were also for the benefit of the people. From that point on, he sang the praises of the Earth Federation, painting a picture of the wonderful future the planet had because of it, and urged the protestors (if they still weren't convinced of the wonders of their Earth saviors) to act peacefully and with maturity and understanding. It was obvious that those betting in favor of propaganda had won.

Knives tried to listen, but found the speech to be rambling. But more than finding it boring, he was distracted by the persisting feeling of being watched. As he sat slouched in his chair, arms folded across his chest, he kept his face toward the television, but occasionally moved his eyes around the room. Still, nothing seemed amiss.

As the president's address drew to a close, the murmur of the crowd grew loud, as everyone was eager to voice their opinions on what they had just heard and to see if they really could get their companions to hand over the money they now owed. Knives, however, didn't want to talk to anyone about anything. He wanted to get out of the saloon and hope the feeling weighing on him was nothing but his imagination. He slipped out and walked quickly down the street.

Both suns had set and the natural light was dimming, but the streets remained lit well enough by businesses and street lights. There was some pedestrian traffic as people came and went from the saloon and other businesses round about, participating in what meager night life the city had to offer. Knives turned down a side street, also lined with businesses, but most of them were closed for the night, and there were no pedestrians down that way. The feeling of being watched, like a shadow looming over him, followed.

Knives suddenly tensed and reached for Vash's revolver under his jacket as the shadow, like a creature suddenly baring fangs, grew into a feeling of killing intent. He bolted. There was an alleyway halfway down the block, and just as he reached it and rounded the corner a gunshot rang out. Knives heard the crunch of the bullet imbedding itself in the adobe of the building next to him and then heard the cries of people down the street, shocked at the sound of gunfire. The alley was dark and Knives dove behind a dumpster, leaning around it with the revolver held out in front of him, ready to fire when his opponent showed himself. A running figure appeared at the entry to the alley, and Knives fired on it, but his opponent ducked back out of the way quickly and the bullet missed. Surely he had suspected Knives's plan and meant to stop at the mouth of the alley and overstepped for a moment. Anyone who could have intended to come around the corner, seen the gun, and jumped back would have to have speed and reflexes far better than the average person. If he had acted that quickly through observation and reflex, he was a Grade A fighter, that was certain.

Whichever it was, the appearance had happened too quickly for Knives to see his opponent. There had been a dark cloak that billowed with his movement and which looked black but might have been any dark color in the dim light. That was all. He could see the man's shadow on the ground, dimly projected by street lights further down the street, but could tell nothing by it. And then the shadow slipped away, although the sense of killing intent did not.

Knives hovered a moment, deciding what to do. The gunshots would attract the authorities, which meant it was in his best interest to be gone quickly. And since the shadow was gone, perhaps it's owner had run off to come down the other end of the alley. Now was likely the best time to make an escape. But something was overriding Knives's sense of reason: he was angry. Having the occasional run in with the police was one thing, but this was a competent assassin. Knives did not take kindly to being attacked. While he might have had the chance to get away, all he wanted at the moment was to see the face of his opponent. And then shoot it.

Knives darted out from the alley, pointing the gun around him as his sight darted over the street. His attacker had apparently vanished. The street was empty. But then a glint caught his eye, the shine of street lights on metal, and brought his attention to the shadowed doorway of a business. Knives made a dive back for the cover of the alley again just as the gun fired, the bullet missing him and pinging off of the dumpster. Pressed against the wall, Knives fired at the doorway and, without waiting to see if he hit his target, bolted down the alley.

Gunfire followed after him. At the other end of the alleyway, he rounded the corner, spinning around so that his back was against the wall. Then he leaned around and fired at his opponent coming up the alley behind him. Two shots fired, and both missed, and Knives ducked back again, afraid that risking another shot left his head in view too long. He was right, as another shot hissed passed him, so close he felt the air off of it brush his cheek.

This was his first real gunfight, and his heart was pounding from the adrenaline, while at the same time, a new source of anger was rising in him: he seemed to be a bad shot. He had practiced almost daily, and felt he should have been doing better than this. Why had he not hit him yet? And his gun only had six shots (he didn't have extra ammunition on him), and he hadn't been keeping track of how many shots he had fired so far.

Deciding to make one final effort, he leaned around the corner, nearly exposing himself entirely, made certain to aim at the dark figure, and fired. Immediately, he spun back around the corner again, but there was no need. His gunshot was followed by a grunt, and then a thud as his opponent dropped to the dirt of the alley floor.

Slowly, Knives came around the corner again. There was a large, dark lump lying unmoving on the ground. Smiling with satisfaction, Knives took a long, deep breath to calm himself again, and then stepped toward the figure, eager to see who this person was that had attacked him. But then the sound of sirens came. Knives paused and looked away in the direction from which they came. The police were coming. That was fast. To have them arrive this quickly meant they were already nearby. Still, Knives could take a quick look at his would-be assassin before making a run for it.

But when he looked back, his opponent was slowly sitting up again, groaning. How!? How was he still alive!? Knives was sure he had aimed right for the center of his chest! The man's hand reached for his gun, which he had dropped when he had been shot. Knives decided that enough was enough. At this rate, he would be arrested by the police, or killed by his seemingly immortal opponent, and he didn't appreciate either scenario. Knives hated to make a run for it, but knew it was his only option. His opponent must have been too wounded or too disoriented to continue the chase, because Knives wasn't pursued.

Knives had a furnished studio apartment. It resembled a rather spartan hotel room with a kitchenette, and he rented it on a month-to-month basis. When he got home, he turned on the light to the blank white walls and simple furniture and then stood just inside the doorway for a long time, frowning in thought with his arms crossed over his chest. In his mind he was glaring down the assassin who had just attacked him.

"How did you know!" he demanded. "How did you know that I was Millions Knives!"

It was the name, wasn't it? He had chosen Kevin S. as his alias because it had all the right letters in it, although now he suddenly felt that they were all the wrong letters. He shouldn't have chosen a name that began with a K. Or that had an N, I, V, E, or S in it. At the time, he thought that surely humans were too stupid to think his name might be an anagram, leaving him to go by his real name, albeit in a round about way. But now he was sure he needed to change it.

No... wait... he was followed from the saloon. Perhaps the person didn't even know his alias. He had been recognized while watching the broadcast and the person had waited until they were away from bystanders to attack him.

Finally, he strode into the bathroom and gripped the medicine cabinet with both hands.

"What gave me away!" he cried, looking hard at himself in the mirror. "I dyed the last of the blonde out of my hair, so it wasn't that!" Was it the hairstyle? There wasn't anything really remarkable or, in his opinion, memorable about his hair. It wasn't like he was Vash, tramping about all over the place with hair that stood in the air as if it found it's owner embarrassing and was eager to get away. Was it the mole? Knives leaned in close to the mirror, eyeing the mark under his right eye. Was it too distinctive?

He suddenly left the bathroom and went to the desk in his apartment. Sitting on it was a computer of his own, a bulky laptop that he had built himself, and beside that, two tattered sheets of paper, each neatly folded in half. He snatched up one and opened it. He was greeted by the biggest, most ridiculous smile that he had ever seen. It was Vash's wanted poster. He quickly folded it again and set it aside. The next was his own wanted poster, and he opened it to find his own face looking back at him as if he were still looking in the mirror.

"Ha!" he cried, triumphant. They had left the mole off of the sketch on the poster. It wasn't that, then. And, now that he was taking a good look at it, the top edge of the portrait cut off his hair, so it was impossible to tell it's style by the image. His hair was shown as being black, though.

Which meant his most recognizable trait would be... his face itself. The one thing he couldn't change. He realized, too, that the portrait's expression was the same as the one he held most of the time in real life: unhappy.

Knives groaned and slumped into the desk chair. He spent another long moment frowning in thought. Well, how he had been recognized was a thing of the past now. There was nothing for it, but to act appropriately now that it had happened.

With an exasperated sigh, he grumbled, "I'm going to have to move. Tonight."

He didn't sleep that night, but gathered up his few possessions and made plans. At dawn he bought a bus ticket into another city, then stopped by his apartment complex's office to say he was leaving. He made up a story of being offered a better job on short notice. Then he called his current employer and told a different story of having a family situation and needing to live with a relative indefinitely. He grabbed a poor excuse for breakfast from the snack aisle at a gas station and then loaded the bus. Finally, he slept, but poorly due to the discomfort of the rough ride and of sleeping sitting up.

At his new location, it was more running about, making phone calls and talking to people. He found a cheap, furnished apartment by the end of the day and had made a list of places to call the next day for possible employment. He wondered how Vash ever managed it as an outlaw. It seemed to him a lot of work.

That night, he threw a sheet on his new bed and was grateful he could finally get a full night's sleep. But he had bad dreams.


	3. Chapter 3 - Miss Stryfe's Announcement

CHAPTER 3

Miss Stryfe's Announcement

Knives had a love-hate relationship with sleep. In the past, he had slept erratically. He worked, ate and slept when the whim took him and, since he had no responsibilities to anyone else, often went days mostly oblivious to the actual passage of time. He had found that, if he went too long without sleep, his body's natural ability to produce energy would kick in, and he would receive enough of a boost to keep going for a while. If he stayed awake too long, however, he would begin to hallucinate, just like any human would. Still, he got by on far less sleep than any human would be able too. Now, though, relying on his body to produce it's own energy wasn't an option. He had to sleep more, and more regularly, and having a job put him on the schedule of sleeping several hours a night just like everyone else. At first, he was annoyed, feeling that sleeping so much was a waste of time that could be spent on more productive things. But soon, he embraced it. Sleep was an escape. When he was asleep, he didn't have to think about being an outlaw, or about the things he had done, or about how alone he felt. Sleep was a blessing.

Unless he had nightmares. He had always had bad dreams, but there had been a noticeable increase since his defeat in Octovern a year ago.

On this particular night, he dreamed that he was looking for Vash. He wandered the desert calling for him, but with no answer. He quickly grew anxious, feeling that Vash might be in danger and that he should find him quickly in case he needed help. Soon, he found a group of men standing together talking. Knives ran to them, asking if they had seen Vash.

"Who?"

"Vash! Vash the Stampede!"

"I've never heard of him."

"What! Everyone's heard of him! He's Vash the Stampede! He has hair that sticks up like the end of a broom and he wears a long red coat all the time!"

"Sorry. I've never seen him."

Exasperated, Knives looked around. He was now suddenly in a town and began wandering the streets asking passersby. No on knew who he was talking about, or they flat out ignored him when he tried to talk to them. His worry for Vash's safety grew until he was sure that Vash was in danger, and he began running up and down the streets, throwing open doors and calling desperately for his brother.

Finally, he opened a heavy metal door that, on the outside, looked like the door to some sort of warehouse. Once the door was open, though, he found himself looking out over a rooftop in very dim, pre-dawn light. The scene was illuminated by lights located on the outside of the building and which, when combined with lights from surrounding buildings, gave him enough light to see by easily. Lying on the rooftop with his back to Knives was a figure with two-toned black and blonde hair and a bright red coat. The rooftop was splattered in a ridiculous amount of blood.

Knives recognized the scene. It was from the time he and Vash had faced off in Octovern. Knives had been using his angel arm and Vash had been using his modified bullets. Vash had collapsed, and Knives had thought he was dead, but then he rose again.

Knives was now faced with the sight of Vash as he lay seemingly dead on the rooftop. He waited a moment, watching for Vash to stir. But he didn't. The longer he waited, the more something in Knives told him that it wasn't going to happen. Vash wasn't going to get back up again. He strode toward Vash, coming around to his front and then knelt beside him.

"Vash?" He gently shook his brother's shoulder. Vash moved limply, his eyes open but devoid of life. "Vash!... Vash, you need to get up!... Vash! Get! Up!" This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was sure Vash was supposed to get up and keep fighting. Why wasn't he getting up? Knives heart started pounding hard and he was finding it hard to breath. "Vash! Vash, you can't die yet! This isn't the part where you die!" He choked on the last word, realizing that, no, this wasn't the part, because that part would come later. He bent low, gathering the limp body into his arms and burying his face in the bright red coat. "Please... please... don't die... don't leave me... please..." His throat grew tight and his eyes filled with tears. "Vash, I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

Knives awoke. His room was lit by gray, pre-dawn light. He lay in bed a long moment, waiting for the memory of the dream to fade out. But for a long while, he felt as if he could still feel the weight of Vash's body against his arms and still see clearly in his mind the exact shade of red of Vash's coat that he had seen as he pressed his face against it. But the hardest feeling to shake was the desire to cry.

He curled into a tight ball. It wasn't fair that he had had to live through Vash's death not once, but on multiple occasions through the nightmares he had. And it wasn't fair that he still had the desire to cry on occasion. Crying made him feel weak, and he hated it. Yet at that moment, his breath shuddered and his eyes stung with oncoming tears. He buried his face in the pillow, as he had done to Vash's coat in the dream. He wouldn't be getting anything done that day. He didn't have it in him.

It was a long time before he bothered getting out of bed, and even longer before he left the apartment. He was hungry and had nothing in the refridgerator of his new apartment. So he would have to go out and get some food whether he felt well or not.

He was too hungry and miserable to actually go grocery shopping. Instead, he went out to a small diner and got something there.

He was sure he looked as miserable as he felt and didn't care. At the moment all he cared about was the food he was eating and his plans to go back to bed again. The diner had a television. The volume was turned up enough, and the murmur of the other patrons was low enough, that he could hear it easily, but he stared at it dully without actually taking in what he was seeing.

And then something interesting happened to the television. In the middle of the programming, it suddenly went to static. For a moment, no one did anything as they waited for the signal to return. But when it didn't seem to be forthcoming, one of the diner employees reached up to change the channel. All the other channels seemed to be out, too. And then the signal returned. Miss Stryfe, the newscaster, was on the television now. The employee attempted to return to the original channel that it had been tuned to before the cut in the signal, only it seemed that now, Miss Stryfe was on every station.

Knives heard the employee saying, "Um... what?"

But what was also catching Knives's attention was that she wasn't sitting at her usual desk. In fact, the atmosphere of the broadcast seemed a touch amateur. She was seated at a wooden desk, such as might be seen in a businessman's office, and the backdrop seemed to be nothing more than a black curtain. What was most noticeable, though, was that Miss Stryfe looked royally annoyed.

"Good evening," she said. "I am Meryl Stryfe from the NLBC News. I am currently with the city officials of Februera City with a very important announcement to make. Today, the city of Februera has, through use of local militia, driven out all Earth Federation authorities and hereby declares independence from the Earth Federation. Nearby towns of Fort Gibson and Little Dakota have joined them. From this point onward, Februera is the capital city of the Native Republic of No Man's Land. The Native Republic urges all those in the Northwest of No Man's Land to join them in this secession. It also welcomes all those individuals in other parts of the Earth Federation who wish to relocate to this new nation."

It was clear that she did not want to be there making this announcement. The annoyance was coming through as a hardness in her voice. And, occasionally, she glanced over to a point just off camera. She was, perhaps, taking cues from someone. When her eyes went that way, her look of annoyance briefly became something closer to a death glare.

"The Native Republic would like to issue the following declaration of independence: We, the people of the Native Republic of No Man's Land, believe that when a government no longer has it's people's best interest at heart, it is the duty of the people to procure a new government, either by overthrowing the current government, or by seceding and creating a new one. We cite the following as evidence that the Earth Federation no longer has it's people's interests in mind. One, that upon arriving on our planet and re-establishing connection with Earth, a large number of laws were passed almost immediately, when it is impossible for the Earth Federation to fully know and understand our current culture, situation, and needs. Two, that the Earth Federation, which is headquartered on a completely different planet than our own, is incapable of caring for our immediate situations and needs on _this_ planet. Three, that with the influx of laws passed after the Earth Federation took control, a disproportionate number of those laws pertained to the comfort and rights of plants, while hundreds, if not thousands of human beings remained without shelter and basic needs after Knives's attack." (Knives bristled a little.) "And four, that laws continue to be passed at a rate that makes it impossible for the average person to fully understand, which brings to question whether the government itself can fully understand and efficiently incorporate them into the governance of the planet.

"We remind the Earth Federation that we have successfully survived on this planet for over one hundred fifty years, and can continue to do so without the Earth acting as our overseer. When Knives attacked our nation, in what was the greatest tragedy of human history, he was defeated not by the Earth's space fleet with their advanced technology, but by Vash the Stampede, a figure who has lived his life on our planet and who become a part of our history and legend long before we were reconnected to Earth. This is surely evidence that No Man's Land can provide solutions to it's own problems, and hope to it's own tragedies." (Again, Knives bristled, not because of the mention of his own self, but at the use of Vash. He knew his brother was regarded as a hero, but to claim him for political purposes angered Knives.) "We have survived on this planet by the sweat of our brow and endured trial and hardship that those sitting comfortably in the government of Earth could not understand. We are survivors, and we do not need the Earth Federation to care for us.

"That concludes the declaration. The Native Republic would like to issue a final statement that, if the Earth Federation does not recognized the new nation and insists on exerting their authority, then the Native Republic will be forced to resort to violence in removing Earth Federation Authorities from their land. In addition, if any cities wishing to join the Native Republic are prevented from doing so due to interference from the Earth Federation, then the Native Republic will do whatever is necessary to free those towns from Earth rule.

That is all."

There was a pause, and then the television returned to static. Everyone in the diner sat in silence, staring at the television despite there being no broadcast. Finally, someone said, "Holy crap!"

The television returned to it's usual programming, the static was replaced by a broadcast of a tomas race.

Knives stared at his food for a moment. Then he put his face in one hand and groaned. "Humans... I hate humans."

Knives returned home that evening and then caught the evening news on the radio. He had a portable radio and listened to the news religiously every evening. Partly, this was due to habit. In years past, he had listened in on the airwaves of the planet simply to keep track of what was happening in the world. It was thanks to his watchfulness over humankind that he had intercepted the message from the Earth fleet and learned that they were making their way to No Man's Land. But mostly, he listened to the news in hope that he wouldn't hear about himself. With yesterday's gunfight still fresh in his mind, he worried his assailant might inform the police that he had been in the area and that the news would broadcast his estimated whereabouts.

But the newscast was completely preoccupied with Meryl Stryfe's unexpected appearance on air. According to the news anchor, the broadcast had not only commandeered all of the television channels, but all of the radio channels as well. She explained that Meryl had gone to the area to interview those who had participated in the protests and then disappeared, with the news station unable to contact her. It was believed Meryl had been kidnapped by Februera City officials and forced to make the announcement. She also announced that the president would make a statement tomorrow evening addressing the issue.

Other news was skimmed over, and there was no mention of Knives's gunfight. Knives mused that petty gunfights were probably so common on the planet that his own probably wasn't worth reporting.

He went to bed that night and didn't remember any of his dreams in the morning.

He awoke feeling better than he had the day before. However, he was in the middle of a bowl of cereal when yesterday's broadcast of Meryl Stryfe happened to enter his mind, and he stopped suddenly with his spoon halfway to his open mouth. He was having an epiphany. Perhaps, in his forgotten dreams, he had subconsciously put things together, or perhaps he was simply looking at things with fresh eyes. Either way, it suddenly occurred to him that Meryl Stryfe had been one of Vash's friends.

He knew Vash had traveled with companions during his conflict with the Gung-Ho-Guns, and knew one of them was the Eye of Micheal member that Knives had sent to accompany him. But the other two were unknown to him. He had been informed that there were two women in the group, but thought little of it. (Only very briefly: long enough to hope Vash wasn't in a relationship with either of them. Dating humans. Blech.)

Several months ago he had sent a letter to the NLBC to inform them of Vash's death. He really had no responsibility to tell anyone, and certainly didn't do it for the humans' sake. But they kept going on and on about him on television and radio, while Knives was struggling to cope with his death. He had written the letter on the small chance that they might believe him and shut up about his brother. It hadn't worked. In fact, he remembered clearly that when Meryl Stryfe broadcast the news of the letter, she sounded very angry. It was clear she thought it was a hoax and that it was very definitely not funny. Then she urged viewers, and Vash himself, to send in any news of his well being.

And she kept asking. And she kept asking. And her voice took on a pleading tone as she asked. And then she sounded very tired when she asked. And then she stopped asking.

Knives had assumed that she was simply a fan of Vash. Now that he was a hero, he had a lot of fans. But on reflection, he questioned that conclusion. Surely there had been people reporting to the news station with false sightings of Vash and faked photographs, hoping for fifteen minutes of fame. Someone in the station must have known Vash well enough to weed out the lies. It had been her. She was the one pleading for Vash to contact her, because every report she heard was a lie. She was the one growing tired of the whole thing, because even the lies began to stop coming in. She was the one who gave up asking, because Vash should have at least tipped her off by then.

And now she was kidnapped. Knives mused that if Vash were present, he would likely go bounding after her. But he wasn't.

_Not my problem,_ he thought, and turned his attention back to his cereal.

He finished his breakfast, but thought about Stryfe.

He washed the bowl and thought about Vash.

He got dressed and thought about Vash rescueing Stryfe.

He dug through his things, looking for his list of possible places to put in a job application, and thought about how Vash wasn't there to rescue Stryfe.

He found his notebook. He paused.

Then Knives's mind was suddenly racing with reasons why he should _not_ have to go rescue Meryl on Vash's behalf. She had been _Vash's_ friend, not his, and it was her own stupid fault if she got kidnapped, and she was just a stupid human, and it didn't look like her life was in danger, and he had himself to take care of and couldn't run around taking care of everyone else in the world too, and... and...

Knives practically threw the notebook down on the table and grabbed a pen.

_Log Entry:_

_ Vaaaaaaash! I hope you're happy, damnit! I didn't know I was signing up for this!_

_ I said I wanted to understand you, and I intended to do so by living as you did, but I felt that living among humans was enough. Now I've been presented with a situation in which I am sure I know the course you would take and, not only can I take that course, but it involves one of your former companions._

_ I can't believe you're going to make me go rescue one of your stupid human friends!_

_ Then again, perhaps speaking to her in person might give me more insight into you. Perhaps I could even ask her about you, and what kind of person you were when you _weren't _waving your gun at me like an idiot._

_ Perhaps this could be for my benefit._

_ Februera City better be easy to get to. And cheap, too. I only just bought a bus ticket, and now I'll need another one. I'm not made of money, Vash! You better be grateful for this!_


	4. Chapter 4 - Rescue

CHAPTER 4

Rescue

The trip to Februera City was several hours long. Knives scowled the entire trip. Two things were bothering him, not including the fact that he was rescuing a human. One was that, once in town, he would have to figure out where in the city she was being held, and that could be annoyingly difficult. The other was that he was confused as to his skill level with a gun, if it came to it. In target practice, he was more than proficient. His lingering pride in being a plant told him that he ought to be able to out shoot any human. And yet his experience with his would-be assassin left him in doubt. He should have shot him right in the chest, but he rose again after being shot. And Knives should have hit him even before that, when he fired into the shadowed doorway he was hiding in. Perhaps the man had been wearing a bulletproof vest. Yes, that could have been it. Knives's pride was soothed by the thought, and he settled on that idea as the answer.

By the time he had reached town Knives had formed something of a plan. He asked directions to city hall, which was now, mostly likely, not only city hall, but the capital building of the Native Republic. It was a two story building a bit nicer than those around it, and just inside he was met by a reception desk, with more offices, hallways and reception windows beyond, and stairs on either side. The receptionist smiled at him.

"Can I help you?"

"Who can I talk to about the broadcast that was transmitted yesterday? The one in which we declared independence?"

"Well, that depends. What is it you need?"

"I need to talk to someone about the young woman who spoke during the broadcast." He lowered his voice a bit. "I believe there may be a security issue in regard to her safety while she's here in the Native Republic."

"Oh!" The receptionist looked a bit startled. "Well, that would be Mr. Lewis. Just take the stairs on your left, and then head for the office at the end of the hall."

"Thank you."

He followed her directions. Past the door at the end of the hall was an office area, with Mr. Lewis's secretary and a few doors further in. The secretary pointed him farther back to one of the doors. This door was left open, and inside a man in a suit sat at his desk making notes in a personal planner. He glanced up at Knives.

"Hello. What can I help you with?"

Knives glanced back at the secretary, who was distracted with her own work, and closed the door behind him. "I need to talk to you about Meryl Stryfe. I believe there's a security issue."

Mr. Lewis rose and came around his desk, frowning. "Oh? What's that?"

Quick as lightning, Knives had hold of him by the lapels of his suit with Vash's gun pressed against the underside of his chin. "Me," he answered. "Now tell me where she is right now."

He was wide-eyed, the color draining from his face, and he lifted his hands, trembling, into the air. "Sh-she's... uh... down... in the conference room... I think..."

"You _think?_"

"I... I'm pretty sure... It's the best I can tell you... I promise!... They're both down there."

"Both?"

"Y-yes... Stryfe and her cameraman... they're both there."

"Do they have belongings being stored somewhere?"

"Yes. I-in my closet."

"Let's go." Knives turned him around toward the door and kept the gun pointed at him.

Mr. Lewis left the office and went to a nearby closet door. It was locked, and he opened it with trembling hands. Then he rummaged inside until he produced two derringers. "These are Stryfe's," he said. "And this one is Thompson's." The latter was an enormous gun with a strap for carrying it over the shoulder. Knives blinked in surprise. Thompson must have been a very large man to carry around that kind of weapon.

The derringers were each put in one of his pockets, and the larger weapon he slung over his shoulder. Then he said, "You're going to take me to them, and we're going to do all of this very calmly and quietly, alright? Keep your hands up, just like you have them."

"Y-yes, sir."

They left the office, with Knives following close behind him, his gun pressed into the man's back. The poor secretary glanced up as they passed and then did a double take. She gave a small gasp and, just as Knives was going out the door, he heard the small click of her picking up her phone.

They went downstairs and down the nearest hallway. For a moment, no one seemed to notice, and then everyone seemed to notice at once. One gasp and another small cry of "Oh!" and suddenly they had everyone's attention. Most people were afraid to move. Some ran for the nearest corner or doorway to hide. The police were getting a dozen calls, at least, all at the same time, Knives was sure of it.

Yet, he felt strangely elated. In the past, before the events of Octovern, whenever Knives had wanted something, he simply walked in and took it. Any humans in the way were either ignored or killed. And now he was, once again, walking in and taking what he wanted. It was the first time since Octovern that he felt he was in a position of power. He was in control. He was the one holding the weapon and giving the orders. It felt good. It felt right.

They reached a set of double doors in the hallway. Mr. Lewis stopped.

"Is this where they are?"

"I... think so."

"You _think_ so?"

"I don't know," he whimpered. "I'm pretty sure though! I mean, I don't know where they are every minute, I just know-"

"Yes, yes, I get it," Knives interrupted. "Open the door."

There was a long conference table, and at it sat a pair of men in suits, opposite of which was Meryl Stryfe, accompanied by a tall young woman with blonde hair. The whole group jumped and yelped at the sight of Knives and his prisoner.

"Stryfe!" Knives snapped. "You're with me! You! Who are you?" he asked of the blonde.

"I-I'm Milly Thompson!"

"She's with me!" Meryl cried, jumping up from her chair.

Knives frowned at her, bewildered. "Are you the cameraman?"

"Yes!"

"This is _your_ gun?"

"Yes!"

What? How did she even lift it? Oh well, that didn't matter right now.

"You're with me, too! Why not! Since today is Go On Idiotic Rescue Missions Day, we might as well! You two!" He pointed the gun at the men, while still holding the back of Mr. Lewis's collar. "Don't move or I'll slice you in half. Shoot you! I meant to say shoot you! And _why haven't you moved yet!_" he demanded of the women.

"Do I get my stun gun?" Thompson asked.

"Yes! Take it! Stryfe, take your guns, too! Let's get out of here!"

"Come on, Milly, let's go!" Meryl said. They both ran to him, eager to take their weapons. Knives noted that Thompson did indeed heft the gun with ease. She must have had impressive muscles under that coat.

"Lewis," Knives said, giving his suit a little shake. "Do you have a vehicle?"

"Yes?" he squeaked.

"Do you have your keys on you?"

"Yes." He fished them out of his pocket.

"What does it look like?"

"I-It's a convertible parked out front."

"Good. Stryfe!" Knives tossed the keys to her. "You're driving. Thompson and I will guard our rear." The truth was, Knives didn't know how to drive a car. He felt it really couldn't be too difficult, but realized that now was not the time to learn.

"Got it," Stryfe answered, and clutched the keys alongside her derringer.

The sound of sirens caught their attention. The whole room looked to each other and then to the direction from which the sound came. Knives, Stryfe and Thompson frowned in concern. Lewis and the other two men looked hopeful. Then there was the sound of raised voices and running footsteps.

"We'll have to fight our way out," Meryl said grimly.

"No we won't," Knives said. "We have hostages."

Everything quieted down outside. Then a voice called, "This is the police! Come out with your hands up!"

Knives shoved Lewis toward Thompson. "Watch him," he said.

Thompson raised her gun at him. "Sorry, it's nothing personal," she said. "Except that, actually, Meryl and I are pretty ticked off about you guys holding us captive, so really it _is _personal."

For some reason, Knives felt a flicker of approval at that.

He went to the doorway, carefully leaning out to catch sight of about five men poised up the hallway with guns pointed at the doors. He wasn't sure if there would be an official police force in town, since Earth Federation authorities had been driven out, but apparently, these were policemen who's sympathy lay with the Native Republic. They were probably born and raised in this very town.

"I have three men hostage in here!" Knives called to them. "If myself, Meryl Stryfe, or her cameraman are fired upon, I will shoot them!"

A hush seemed to fall over the whole building.

One of the security team asked, "What are your demands?"

"Meryl Stryfe, her cameraman and myself leave the building together unharmed."

There was a pause, and the group in the conference room could hear voices murmuring to each other. Then, "We cannot allow Miss Stryfe to leave the building."

Stryfe, leaning cautiously through the doorway, grumbled, "I know things about their so-called new government that they don't want leaked."

Knives couldn't have cared less. Although, on second thought, he admitted to himself that it was nice to have an explanation for why he was having to go through all of this in the first place.

"Hey, Meryl?" Thompson sidled up to her companion. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Stryfe glanced at Knives and said, "Keep them talking." Then she and Thompson withdrew to a far corner of the room and began conversing in whispers.

Knives turned his attention back to the security team. "Look, if you can't let her leave, and I'm not leaving without her, then what am I supposed to do?" Then he added, "I could start killing off hostages, I guess. _I_ don't care if I kill them or not, but it might let you know how serious I am." He glanced at the men being held hostage, who looked back at him in wide-eyed terror.

"Don't kill anyone! We can still work something out!" the policeman called back. "Why are you doing this?"

"...Because she's my girlfriend!" Knives answered.

Cries of "What!?" came from the police, the hostages, and the two young women.

Knives threw up his hands in exasperation. "Fine! It's because of complex moral obligations brought about by guilt stemming from a hundred and fifty years of familial conflict that ended in tragedy. Are you happy now?"

There was a pause. Then security called out, "Your first story was better!"

Knives looked toward the young women and found that they were looking at him with expressions of distrust and concern that made him uncomfortable. When he looked at them, they quickly looked away. Were they talking about him over there?

"We're willing to offer you a deal," security called. "We cannot allow Miss Stryfe to leave, but we're willing to make some kind of negotiation for the safety of the hostages."

"No negotiation," Knives called back. Then he yanked Lewis back to him again. Placing his gun against Lewis's back again, he started his way out the door.

Lewis, knowing he was stepping out into the view of the policeman, instantly began shouting, "Don't shoot! Don't shoot!"

"What are you doing?" Stryfe asked.

"He's our human shield," Knives answered.

Thompson chimed in. "Oh, this is all silly. Just let me handle it!"

She stepped out into the hall and, to the policemen, cheerful said, "Hello!" Then she hefted her stungun and fired twice. The X-shaped projectiles plowed into the group, knocking them back into the hall, the first one taking out most of them and the second taking the rest. It also took out parts of the walls. Knives found the event very satisfying to watch.

Thompson didn't need to tell them the next part of the plan. The three of them took off down the hall. Some of the policemen who were slightly less stunned and injured fired shots after them, but the bullets only punctured walls and the ceiling.

Bursting out the front door, they spotted the convertible and headed for it.

The top was down, and as they leaped in. Meryl threw the car in reverse to pull out of the parking place and then peeled away, sending the wheels spinning a moment and kicking up a cloud of dust in the dry street. Knives twisted around in the seat to watch behind them. He could see a few men climbing into a car in their wake.

They were fast enough to keep up, despite the head start the trio had. Knives leveled his gun, aiming carefully. Someone in the car put their head out the window and fired off a couple of shots at them. Thompson gave a yelp and ducked, and Stryfe swerved a little, startled, but Knives barely flinched. He eyed the car's tire down his sights and fired. Bull's eye.

The tire blew out, sending the car swerving. It turned sideways and, in what seemed like slow motion, it rolled over onto it's back, then continued onto it's tires again. It pitching onto two wheels, but rather than another flip, it fell back and sat still. And that was that. The chase was done.

Knives smirked. _A bullet proof vest,_ he thought. _It had to have been._


	5. Chapter 5 - Brother's Companions

CHAPTER 5

Knives and His Brother's Companions

Meryl glared at nothing, her hands gripping the steering wheel tight, as they made their way through the desert. It was clear where a highway had been worn into the dry ground by vehicles over the years, but she didn't know where the highway went. As long as it was away from Februera, she didn't care. She could get her bearings when they hit the next town.

She was silently fuming. How dare they hold her captive like that. How dare they bully her. They had hacked into the airwaves for their little broadcast, but that was just showing off. That's all it was. And making her give the broadcast was just bullying. They were angry with her for going snooping and finding out things they didn't want her to know, so they make her give a stupid broadcast just to show that they were in charge.

Jerks. They'll pay for it.

And then look who shows up! Playing the hero of all things! Oh, he wasn't fooling her! He wasn't going to win her over! She didn't know what he was up to with all of this, but she wasn't having any of it!

Meryl looked in the rear view mirror at him. He had put the gun away and was sitting casually, looking out at the passing desert, oblivious to being watched. Then she met Milly's eyes in the mirror, who raised her eyebrows questioningly and glanced at the man. Meryl gave a small nod in acknowledgment of her unspoken question.

Finally, when Meryl felt more comfortable with the distance between themselves and Februera, with no sign of rising dust from pursuers behind them, she pulled over.

The man in the back seat looked toward her. "What's wrong."

"Get out of the car," she answered.

She and Milly did so themselves. The man did so slowly, eyeing her suspiciously as he did.

Meryl came around to face him. Then, in a quick motion, snatched his gun away from him and pointed it at his chest. Behind the man, Milly produced her stungun.

"Did you think we wouldn't know who you were?" Meryl asked.

He heaved a sigh and raised his hands. "Am I that recognizable?" he grumbled.

"You look just like Vash." She had known they were brothers, but it made her angry just how much the two looked alike. Vash was special. He was important to her. No one should look so much like him, especially the one responsible for all the trials and pain Vash had had to endure.

"Then I was right. You did know him," Knives said.

"We were his friends. We were there to see all the things _you_ did to him!" Suddenly she was yelling. "You're disgusting! I hate you! I should just shoot you right now!"

Knives answered calmly and quietly. "Don't."

"Oh, is that how it is?" she demanded. "You kill millions of people, but when someone points a gun at you, they should let you go just because you said so?"

"It's not like that," he responded, still calm.

"Then how is it!"

"Vash wouldn't want you to."

His words were like a punch in the stomach. For a moment, she only stared at him. Then she was pressing the end of Vash's gun hard against his sternum. "How _dare_ you! _How DARE you!_ How dare you try to use _him_ to save yourself!"

Knives's voice took on an edge. "Vash died because he used the last of his plant energy. And he used it while escaping from Octovern City. Those from the Earth fleet would have killed both of us, and Vash could have easily saved himself, but took hold of me and chose to save me as well. I've done a lot of things to Vash that I deeply regret, but I _won't_ disrespect his death, nor cause it to be in vain, by allowing myself to be easily killed. That's why I don't want you to shoot me."

A silence followed this. Then Milly asked, "Would you kill us to stay alive?"

Knives thought on this a moment. Then he said, "I don't think Vash would want me to live at the expense of others that he cared about. But I would certainly make an attempt to escape."

"Don't you have any kind of special plant powers?" Milly asked, sounding a mix of confused and wary.

"Not anymore. I no longer have my angel arm, nor my healing abilities."

"Why not?"

"I removed my gate."

There was a pause. Then Milly said, "You removed your... gate?"

"A gate is an organ within a plant," Knives explained. "It is what allows them to produce energy. In a plant independent, it's located in our arms. I removed mine."

"What?" Milly cried, horrified. "You mean you cut it out? Like with scissors or something?"

"Scissors!? No!" Knives matched her look of horror. "It's a good thing you're a cameraman and not a doctor! Scissors!?"

"Well, what did you do?"

"I used a scalpel is what I did! And several other tools, but this isn't the time to go into a detailed account of surgical procedures."

"How do we know you're telling the truth," Meryl demanded.

"I'll show you," he answered. Slowly, with Meryl watching him like a hawk, he lowered his arms and rolled up his left sleeve. There was a scar on the inside of his arm, about four inches long, that ran from the inside of his elbow toward his wrist. It was pink and puffy and very obvious. Meryl eyed the scar warily.

Milly gasped. "Why would you do that!"

"Two reasons. One is to protect myself from suffering the same fate as my brother. If I can't produce energy, I can't die from using it up. The other is that I know I have moments of bad temper and I don't want to use my angel arm to kill someone in one of those moments. I've decided that, for now, I won't kill any humans unless it's completely necessary."

"Oh, _now_ you don't want to kill humans? You're a little late!" Meryl cried.

Knives gave her a look. "Part of the reason Vash died is because he insisted on defending humans. He was willing to give his life for them. I want to know why. I want to understand his sacrifice. For most of the past year, I've been living among humans acting as one of them."

Meryl looked at him hard, her eyes narrow as they looked into his. Finally, she asked, "Why did you rescue us?"

"Because I knew you were Vash's former companions."

"That's it? You did it for Vash's sake?"

"Yes."

Her eyes narrowed further. "I don't believe you."

"Whether you believe it or not doesn't change the truth," Knives grumbled.

"So basically what this all boils down to is that everything you do nowadays is out of guilt for Vash?"

Knives swelled with anger at the question. He said, "What I do and why is none of your business! You leave Vash out of it!"

_You're the one who brought him up first,_ Meryl thought. She lowered her gaze to Vash's gun pressed against his chest. And now she had the chance to avenge his death. Now she had the chance to punish Knives for all of the pain he had caused him. Knives half-confessed guilt didn't stir sympathy in her, but rather the grim satisfaction that he felt pain for what he had done. And now that he was less dangerous she could simply shoot him. And it would work. She could kill Millions Knives.

And she knew she wouldn't do it. She had fired on others many times, but it had always been in defense of herself or others, with adrenaline coursing through her to ensure she acted without thinking too much about it. But to calmly shoot someone at point blank range who was currently unarmed was something she couldn't do, even if it was a mass murderer.

Her hands began to shake a little. She willed herself to pull the trigger, but her finger wouldn't move. Tears welled up in her eyes in frustration.

So she lowered the gun. For a moment, no one said or did anything. Meryl drew a shaking breath.

And then she kicked Knives in the crotch. Knives grunted and went to the ground. Milly cried, "Oh goodness!"

"That was for Vash," Meryl said. Then, "Come on, Milly! Let's get out of here!" Meryl turned away and got back into the car.

"Oh... um... is he going to be okay?"

"He'll be fine! He can walk!" As soon as Milly was in the vehicle with her, Meryl started up the car and took off. She watched Knives, huddled on the ground, grow distant in her rear view mirror.

_Log Entry:_

_ Vash... I hate you so much, Vash._

_ You have the worst friends... They make you go rescue them... And then they kick you in the groin... And she drove away with your gun... I hate you so much... So much..._

_ This is why you can't be friends with humans, Vash! Because you rescue them, and they thank you by kicking you in the groin!_

Knives walked down the highway. He could see the next town in the distance, but it didn't seem to be getting any closer. Finally, someone driving a delivery truck drove past and stopped to pick him up.

"What are you doing out here?" the man asked.

"I was riding with some acquaintances," he answered grumpily. "We had an argument."

The man burst out laughing. Knives envisioned strangling him.

It was late in the afternoon and Knives knew he wouldn't get a bus back to his hometown until the next morning, so he asked the truck driver to drop him off at a hotel. He booked a room and looked forward to spending the evening in blissful quiet and solitude.

He went out briefly to pick up a small dinner, and on his way back, took the elevator up to his room.

"Wait! Wait! Hold the elevator!"

Knives did so. And in came Thompson. The two stared at each other a moment as the doors slid closed. Then, in unison, they cried, "You!"

"You're alright!" Milly cried. "I'm glad! I was worried about leaving you out there!"

"Why were you worried about me?" he asked. Shouldn't she have been gleefully celebrating the fact that she got to witness someone kick him in the crotch?

"Well, it's just that this one time, Meryl and I left Mr. Vash and Mr. Wolfwood walking in the desert, and they ended up having to go to the hospital for dehydration."

Knives bristled. "Why did you leave Vash in the desert!"

"Well because he and Mr. Wolfwood left town that morning without telling us, and we were both pretty ticked off about it," she admitted. "So when we passed them walking, he just kept on driving, just to be ornery to them. We didn't mean to put them in the hospital."

Knives gave her an unhappy look. His opinion of the two women was dropping even further.

An awkward silence feel between them.

Then the doors opened and, adding to the awkwardness, they both walked the same direction down the hall. Then they both stopped at doors right next to each other.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," Knives murmured.

Milly opened her door and then paused. "Mr. Knives?"

"What?"

"Meryl's running some errands, and I'm by myself for a while. Will you play chess with me?"

He stared at her a moment. "No," he said simply. And then he went into his room and shut the door.

Knives paused a long moment, frowning in thought. He opened the door again, and knocked on Thompson's door.

When she answered, she asked, "Yes?"

"Give me Vash's gun back," Knives demanded.

Thompson pouted at him.

"Give it to me!" he insisted. "It's mine by inheritance." And it was the only thing of Vash's that he had kept. Knives was not one to put importance on material possessions, but that gun was an exception.

He could tell by the look on her face, that the gears in Thompson's mind were turning. Finally, she said, "If you beat me in chess, I'll give it back to you."

Knives made a growling noise. He considered simply pushing past her and raiding the room.

But then she added, "You do know how to play chess, right?"

Did he know how to- _Did he know how to play chess?_ Of course he knew how to play chess! He had known how to play chess since before she was born! With his superior plant intellect, he could run circles around her in a chess game!

"Of course I do!" he snapped.

"Well then?"

"Fine!" he spat. "Set up the board! I'll have that gun back before you've moved three pieces!"

"Yay!" she cried happily. "And if _I_ win, then you have to do something for me!"

"What?" he demanded.

She thought a moment. "You have to buy me an ice cream!"

"What, that's it?"

"A sundae! A brownie sundae!"

"Fine! Set up the board already!"

They both went into the hotel room. Milly went for a bag and rummaged through it for the game. Knives, meanwhile, dragged a small table from the corner of the hotel room into place so that one of them could sit on one of the beds, while the other used the desk chair. Milly turned back to him and began setting up the board.

Knives hadn't played chess in years. A few times, while incredibly bored, he had played a game against Elendira. He had won, but that didn't mean much to him. This was partly because, with his superior intellect, he expected to win anyway, but also partly because he suspected Elendira held back just to be safe. He doubted any of his "employees" would dare to actually beat him in a game.

So when he looked over his pieces, he mentally reminded himself how each one moved. And when, a little into the game, Milly castled her king, Knives bristled and glared, because he had forgotten that a player could do that. But he whittled away at her pieces, and put her in check a couple of times.

Then, "check," Milly said.

Knives moved out of check.

Milly moved again. "Check."

Knives took her offending piece.

Milly moved again. "Check."

Knives made a growling noise and moved out of the way.

Milly moved again. "Check mate! Yay!"

Knives fell into a string of swearing. "I'm rusty!" he cried. "I don't get to play often! That's the only reason you won!"

Milly chanted in a sing-song voice, "I get an ice cream! I get an ice cream! Do you want to go out and get it right now?"

"No!" Knives snapped. "Here, just take this and get your ice cream later." He pulled out his wallet and handed her a few double dollar bills.

"Thank you!... Do you want to play again?"

"Yes!" Knives said instantly, eager for the chance to heal his wounded pride.

"This time, if I win, you buy me a piece of cake, too!"

"Okay! Fine! Just set up the board!"

This time Knives took a little more time to think through his plans. The game moved a little slower because of it, but he was determined not to be beaten twice. He and Milly took turns putting each other in check until finally, Knives began moving quickly and surely.

"Uh oh," Milly said. "You've got a plan, don't you?"

Knives smiled. And then, sure enough, "Check mate!"

"Oh, poo!" Milly cried, and then pouted. Knives sat back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest and smirking.

"Now, you promised," Knives reminded her. "Hand over the gun."

Milly went to a suitcase and produced the gun. She handed it reluctantly to Knives. Quietly, she grumbled, "Meryl's going to be mad at me."

Knives took the gun and remained sitting a moment. For the time, Knives was satisfied with simply sitting a moment in the glory of his victory. Then Milly asked, "Well, Meryl's not back yet, so... best two out of three?"

"Yes!"

They reset the board. This time, Milly said, "Do you want to try speed chess?"

"What's that?"

"You have to play the game within a certain number of minutes. I don't have a timer for it, though, but my brothers and sisters used to play our own version, where we just gave each other five seconds to move during each turn."

Knives had already procured the prize he wanted, but since winning had stroked his pride, he confidently agreed to the game.

He felt that, this time, winning would be slightly more dependent on luck, with neither of them given enough time to truly plan ahead. But there was a bit of a rush to playing so quickly and impulsively. As each tried to quickly take in what the other had moved and frantically thought through where they might move themselves, something stirred in Knives. If he had been watching as an outside spectator, he would have noticed something interesting: there was a certain telling look in his eye and a slight smile on his face. He didn't realize it, but he was enjoying himself. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he was doing something that was... fun.

"Check mate!"

The two stared at the board, taking a moment for their minds to slow and take in what had just happened.

"Did you just check mate me?" Milly asked.

"I did!" Knives answered, surprised. "Ha! I did!" Then he burst out laughing, thrilled at the victory and the rush the game had given him.

"We forgot to say what our rewards were," Milly said. "What do you want?"

"What? Oh. I don't know." He sat thinking a moment, still smiling slightly. He leaned back in his chair a little, tipping it onto it's back legs as he answered. "You can answer a question for me. Your friend said she knew something about the Native government, and that was why they were holding you captive. What was it?" Honestly, he wasn't too interested. But given how much trouble he had been through to rescue them, he was a bit curious to know.

"Oh that! The Native government has a nuclear bomb, and we're afraid they might use it."

"What!?" Knives fell backward in his chair with a loud bang.

"Oh my goodness! Are you okay?"

Knives sat up, rubbing the back of his head. "What did you just say?"

"Well, see, we were going to interview a city official about the protests, and we were left by ourselves in an office to wait for the man to show up. Ever since she got into the news business, Meryl has gotten a bit snoopy, and there was a file cabinet open, so she took a peak to see if there was anything interesting. She found a file on a nuclear bomb they had, only we didn't get time to take a good look at it, so we don't know where it is. When the man showed up for the interview, we confronted him about it, and he said that if the Earth Federation forces them to go to war, then they might have to use it. See, the Earth Federation has higher technology and weapons and stuff, so honestly, they'll cream the Native government if it came down to it. So they'll blow something up to scare the Earth Federation. He was very eager to convince us that it was a good idea, but I think mostly he was mad at us for finding out and trying to defend the whole thing." Milly frowned. "I don't like it at all. They'll hurt a lot of innocent people using a bomb like that!"

"You think!?" Knives cried. He sat on the floor a moment, stunned. Then he was suddenly on his feet again, shouting, "I can't believe this! Humans! I _hate_ humans!" He slammed his hands on the table and leaned across it toward Milly. "There's a plant dome in every major city! Are they just going to blow them up, too!? They have nothing to do with this stupid secession business! They're innocent bystanders! And is this how they repay _Vash!?_ He saves everyone from being killed by _me_ and _dies doing it,_ and then they turn right around and start nuking each other!? Is that any way to repay him!?"

"Um... no?" Milly answered, rather startled.

The hotel room door opened and Meryl came in carrying shopping bags. "Hey, Milly. I- Woah!" She dropped the bags and drew a derringer, pointing it at Knives. "What are you doing here!"

"I was just leaving!" Knives answered. He stomped past her to the door and opened it. Before leaving he paused and looked back to Milly. "If we see each other again, you're playing speed chess with me again."

Milly instantly beamed. "Oh, yay! I'd like that very much!"

Then Knives stomped away, slamming the door behind him.


	6. Chapter 6 - The Assassin Returns

CHAPTER 6

The Assassin Returns

The next day, Knives went out early, intending to spend his day lurking around town. He wanted to be able to think over the new information about the bomb before deciding what course of action he was taking from here, and wanted to do so uninterrupted. He was sure that with Stryfe and Thompson next door, they would come pestering him, either to demand Vash's gun back, or to demand more chess games.

He spent some time in a library. There he researched any information he could find on nuclear weapons, as well as studied maps of the planet, trying to predict how a civil war might play out. It was also someplace quiet where he could hermit for a while. In the afternoon he roamed the main streets and town square. He thought about booking a new hotel room at a different hotel. Maybe Stryfe and Thompson would think he had left town already and leave themselves.

At one point during the day he took a moment to read a newspaper. As usual, there was no mention of himself in the news. The secession, however, was making major headlines. Several towns had been quick to join the Native Republic. At the time the paper had been printed, a most of those towns were still in chaos, as the townspeople tried to drive out the Earth Federation authorities.

Finally, he decided he would take a look at the town's power plant and then head back to the hotel. Hopefully the two young women would be gone by then.

This particular town still had plants for power, as did many in the Northwest corner of the country. Knives could telepathically sense their presence as he drew near.

_Log Entry:_

_ I wish I could talk to them._

_ What would I say? Would I tell them that I'm sorry for promising to free them and then failing? Would I tell them that Vash is gone? Would I tell them to be strong, because they'll be rescued soon, not by me, but by humans? Would I tell them that this stupid issue of secession will likely delay their freedom? Would I tell them they or their sisters elsewhere might get bombed?_

_ Whether I approach my sisters still in their bulbs, or my sisters living free in the domes, it's always the same. I always have the desire to speak to them, yet I don't know what to say. And the closer I draw to them, the more I feel shame rise up in me, as if it would be a disservice to them to have to talk to someone who failed them as spectacularly as I have. I can't help thinking that they probably want nothing to do with me anyway. Not anymore._

_ I have always been alone. Being alone doesn't bother me. My own company is usually the only company I can stand, and being in crowds or being forced into unwanted conversation is draining. Alone is where I'm comfortable. And on the occasions in which I have felt lonely, I consoled myself by thinking that some day, in the future, myself and my brother and all of my sisters would all live freely together in peace. Feelings of loneliness are easier to bear when you think that someday you'll never be lonely again._

_ But with Vash gone, and the shame I feel near my sisters... And with so much time spent among humans who I don't understand and can't relate to... I have never felt so alone as I have in the past year._

_ I want to speak to them so badly while I'm here. But I know it's for the best that I don't._

Knives leaned against a nearby building, looking upward at the towering structure and it's pair of plant bulbs. After a little time passed, Knives began to feel the creeping sensation that something unfriendly was watching him.

He inwardly groaned. _Oh no,_ he thought. _Not again._

Grateful he had been able to take back Vash's gun, Knives drew it and held it at the ready. The power plant was on the edge of town and there was significantly less pedestrian traffic, but even if he took a good look at each individual around him, he doubted his assailant would be strolling about in the open. Most likely, it wasn't the same person, but this recent rash of being recognized and antagonized was getting old.

Knives closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling. Like a person searching the dark for a light source, or feeling the air for heat, he telepathically reached out to try and pinpoint the source of the feeling.

"Found you," he whispered.

Spinning around to face the bulk of the town again, Knives pointed his gun outward and fired. He managed to catch sight of a figure atop a nearby building that quickly ducked out of the way. They were wearing a black cloak.

Knives gave a slight gasp. Then he ran for the building. "You again! Oh, you are _mine!_"

In the gap between buildings, Knives spied a fire escape. It was on the neighboring building, but it was the most obvious way to reach his opponent. The bottom flight of stairs was raised by use of a counterbalance, but Knives took a running leap and grasped hold of the bottom step. His weight pulled the stairs downward, and he pulled himself up just as it hit the ground with a jarring bang. He ran up them as his opponent appeared again. The two fired at each other and missed, his opponent's bullets pinging off of the guardrail and Knives's aim sloppy from running up the stairs. Then his opponent produced a different gun and chased Knives up the stairs with automatic fire. Knives dropped to avoid the fire, and in the same movement, swung his aim upward and fired on the figure again. His opponent jumped back out of the way again, but Knives saw something flutter away, and realized he had shot the other's hat off. On reaching the top of the fire escape, Knives put his back against the wall and, as soon as he had sight of his opponent again, fired off another shot that he suspected hit his opponent in the shoulder. Then he launched himself forward, jumping onto the guardrail and then springing off from it toward the other building, which, fortunately, was close enough. He managed to catch hold of the top of the roof and then swing himself up. Rolling onto the roof, he swung his gun up into the face of his opponent who greeting him with a gun pointed at Knives's face.

For a moment, neither moved, eyeing the end of the other's gun. Then Knives took his first good look at the other. He had messy blonde hair that was so fair it was practically white. There was a tattoo around one eye.

"Who are you?" Knives demanded.

The other gave a small smile. "You know, it's funny. We know each other but never actually saw each other back then. I'm Livio the Doublefang, former member of the Eye of Michael and former Gung-Ho-Gun."

Knives eyes went wide. A Gung-Ho-Gun has survived? He had assumed that all of them, including Elendira and Legato, had died during his conflict with Vash. But once the information settled in, anger rose. A Gung-Ho-Gun was alive, one of _his_ "employees" was alive, and rather than greeting Knives in a way that would be appropriate for a servant greeting his master, he was trying to kill him!

"Why are you shooting at me!?" Knives demanded.

"Because I've gotten things straightened out since then. I'm a bounty hunter now. It's my job to get rid of the bad guys."

Knives took this in. First that false priest threw in his lot with Vash. Now this one seemed to have had the same change of heart. Knives made the mental note that while the Eye of Michael produced the greatest assassins on the planet, their record for betraying him was ridiculous. Eyeing Doublefang, Knives asked, "How did you recognize me if we never saw each other?"

"Oh, that's easy. You look just like your brother. In fact, I wasn't even looking for you until I happened to see you in that saloon. I thought you were Vash for a moment and was going to go say hello and then realized something wasn't right."

_That's twice now. Twice!_ Knives thought. _Vash, why do you have to look like me! This is infuriating!_

"And how did you find me _this _time?" Knives asked.

"Meryl Stryfe is an old acquaintance of mine. When I saw that thing on TV, I decided to come out here to help her. I ran into you first, though."

"You're too slow. She's already free from the Natives."

"Oh, is she? Oh good! That's great!" For a moment, he seemed so glad that Knives wondered if he had forgotten that they were pointing guns at each other. But then he sobered and said, "Hey, I got a question for you now. Why haven't you just used your angel arm and killed me? Honestly I'm surprised I survived this long."

"I don't have my angel arm anymore," Knives grumbled.

"Oh!... How come?"

Knives huffed an annoyed sigh. "Okay, look. You and I are going to slowly lower our guns, and then we'll talk."

Doublefang seemed to consider this a moment. Then he said, "No. But you can lower yours if you want to."

It occurred to Knives that Doublefang wasn't trying to be funny, just polite in a ridiculous way. "You're too kind," he grumbled. "But as long as there's a gun in my face, I'll pass."

Doublefang shrugged. "Fair enough."

"I don't have my angel arm because I removed the organ in my arm that allows for it. I don't want to kill myself off the way Vash did using up the last of his energy, and I don't want to kill anyone. Well, more or less. I was going to kill you to get you off my back."

"I understand," Doublefang said. "So... Vash... really is dead then?"

"Yes."

"Oh." Doublefang lowered his eyes slightly, looking a little pained. In a low voice he said, "I was hoping it wasn't true... He was a really amazing guy, you know?... But... I guess it's alright."

"What!?" Knives cried. "How could you possibly say that it's alright!"

"Well, I've thought to myself, what if it's true? And, see, I... uh... I had a good friend who died, and who was also good friends with Vash. And I thought, 'Well, they'll get to be together again.' I know that really ought to just be doubly depressing to have two friends dead, but when I think about them being together again... it's not so bad." There was a pause and then he added, "Wait, did you say you _don't_ want to kill people?"

"That's right."

"Why?"

"I want to know why Vash was willing to give his life for humans. So I've decided to live among them for the time being."

"Oh!" Doublefang considered this a moment. Then he said, "Okay, how about this. I won't kill you, if you won't kill me."

"I'll take it."

Both of them lowered their guns very slowly, watching the other distrustfully. Finally, both guns were put away. Doublefang offered Knives a hand up, who ignored him and stood on his own.

Then Doublefang began glancing around the rooftop. "Where did my hat go?... Oh, there it is." He gave a cautious look to Knives before deciding to risk turning away from him to retrieve the hat. As he returned it to his head, he said, "You got me good a couple of times, this time and last time. If it weren't for my healing abilities from the Eye of Michael I'd be dead." Knives swelled a little, pleased. It wasn't the bullet proof vest he had suspected, but it would certainly do. "So... for now... you're just living? I mean, you have a job and stuff?"

"Had. I had to move because _someone_ recognized me in my last town." He gave Doublefang a pointed look. "I haven't gotten a new job yet. And I won't for a while."

"Why not?"

"I've just learned something about the secession that disturbs me. My sisters may be in danger. I need to take action."

Doublefang stared at him, looking slightly horrified. "Uh... last time you decided your sisters were in danger, you wiped out about a third of the planet."

"This doesn't involve genocide. The Native government has a bomb, and I won't let them use it. I just need to locate it and do something to ensure it can't be used."

"A bomb? What kind of a bomb?" Doublefang asked cautiously.

"A nuclear bomb."

Doublefang went wide eyed and pale. "They're not going to _use_ it are they?"

"It's a serious possibility. But I won't let them. Now if you'll excuse me, I have things to do." Knives took a look over the roof and spied the roof hatch. He headed for it.

"Wait! I'll help you!"

Knives stopped and turned. He looked Doublefang up and down. So the servant still wanted the master after all? "Is your partner still with you?"

"Who? Master C?"

"No, the other one. I was told you had a partner of some kind, that you were something of a two for one deal."

"Oh! Razlo? Razlo the Trip of Death?"

"Yes, that's the one."

Doublefang hesitated, looking uncomfortable. "Um... he's... nearby. We're still together."

"Will he be joining us?"

"Yes... but... uh... there's something you need to know."

Knives raised his eyebrows.

Doublefang continued, looking like someone about to confess to something horrifically embarrassing. "I have a split personality... he's the other one."

Knives frowned a moment at this as he considered it. "How often does he show himself? Do you choose when to switch, or does it happen randomly?"

"He usually shows up when I get in over my head. He's sort of my backup."

"Will he try to kill me?"

"I... don't think so?"

"I see. Alright, let's go."

"You're... okay with that?"

"Doublefang, think about the servants I've had in the past. Do you think I care?"

He thought about this. Then he said, "Oh... I see what you mean."

"Then let's go," Knives said, turning back to the roof hatch. He was eager to get back to his hotel room. Talking with Doublefang was more exhausting than fighting him was.

The two returned to Knives's hotel. In the lobby was Stryfe and Thompson speaking to the receptionist.

Doublefang paused. "Hey, is that..."

"Yes. Let's keep moving before they notice us."

Thompson looked their direction. "Oh, look! There he is!"

"Crap!" Knives hissed.

When Stryfe looked up, she instantly began striding toward them. Thompson said something briefly to the receptionist and then came trotting after her.

"You!" When Stryfe reached him, she pointed a finger at him and lowered her voice. "The owner of that convertible filed a report and the police were here! We had to lie and say we didn't know anything about it! Where were _you_ all day, that we had to be the ones to deal with that!"

Knives bristled. "Oh, so it was alright for you to kick me in the crotch and steel the car from me, but it's wrong that I didn't hang around a stupid hotel all day?"

"_You_ deserved that kick!"

"Hey, wait a minute," Thompson interrupted. "I know you!"

"I know you, too!" Doublefang answered happily.

She beamed along with him. "It's Livio, right? I remember you from back then. You had shorter hair then, though, right? How are you?"

"Yeah, I let it grow out again. I'm doing really well! I'm living in December City now. I work at an orphanage there, and I've been doing bounty hunting to get us some money."

"Oh! How exciting! So do you get to play with kids all day? I love kids!"

"Oh, well, it's a lot more work than just playing with them," he said, laughing a bit. "I have to be their dad sometimes, you know? I have to put them in time-out when they fight and take care of them when they're sick and that sort of thing."

"Oh, but you like it right?"

"Oh yeah! I love it! They're my family!"

"I've been working as Meryl's cameraman in her news broadcasts."

"Yeah, I've seen her on television! That's really cool! I'm glad you guys are doing alright!"

"Excuse me!" Stryfe interrupted. "But _someone_ is getting away!"

They all looked to see Knives at the elevator. He gave a guilty start and then began repeatedly jamming the "Up" button.

The group followed after him and caught up before the elevator opened.

"Hey, I thought we were partnered up," Doublefang protested.

"What? You're with _him_ now?" Stryfe asked.

"Yeah, he said he had some things to do, and I said I'd help," Doublefang answered.

The elevator door finally opened and the group went in.

"Thank goodness," said Stryfe. "Someone sane is joining us."

"Sane?" Doublefang asked, looking a little doubtful.

"Us!?" Knives demanded. "What do you mean 'us?'"

Stryfe folded her arms across her chest. "Well, Vash isn't here to keep an eye on you anymore, so _someone_ needs to! Milly and I have talked about it, and we've decided we're not letting you out of our sight!"

"What!?" Knives roared.

"Oh, but don't worry!" Thompson said. "You won't be on the news. We called the news station and said we were safe, but wanted time off to recover from the trauma, so no one will know about you or what we're really doing."

Knives felt that, when all this was over, _he_ would be the one who needed time off to recover from _them._

Oh well. He would leave early the next morning without warning them. Then he'd be gone before they were even awake and would be unable to accompany him. That would solve that issue.

If Vash had heard his thoughts, he would have laughed.


	7. Chapter 7 - Family

Author's Note: Sorry I skipped the update last week. I was dealing with real life stuff. To make up for it, I'll upload two chapters this week.

Also, thank you everyone for the reviews! I appreciate hearing from you guys, and I'm so happy to know that people are enjoying this story!

CHAPTER 7

Family

"Oh, you are _just_ like your brother," Stryfe said to Knives. It was clear by her expression that this wasn't a compliment.

Knives had awoken that morning to find Stryfe and Thompson standing outside his hotel room with their suitcases packed. The first sun hadn't even come up yet.

"Why are you awake this early?" Knives demanded.

"Vash taught us well," Stryfe answered. "He'd try to sneak off first thing in the morning, too."

"Oh, so he found you as obnoxious as I do. Well, that's some consolation, I suppose."

"Excuse me! We were friends!"

Knives gave her a look. "Yes, and that's why he tried to sneak off without you." Then he had a sudden thought. "Wait a minute... Were you in love with my brother?"

Stryfe was instantly bright red. "I- What? No!"

"I see." Knives bent down a bit to get a closer look at her, his eyes narrowing. "You're one of the clingy stalker types aren't you? And Vash had to try and slip away from you."

"That is not true!" Meryl cried.

There was a snorting noise and they both looked to Thompson to see that she was trying not to laugh.

"Milly!"

She gave a guilty start. "Oops, I mean, that was really rude, Mr. Knives! And completely untrue!"

"Thank you, Milly," Stryfe grumbled.

Knives heaved a sigh. "Alright. Whatever. Let's go get Doublefang."

Doublefang answered his hotel door wearing disheveled hair and boxers. He looked groggily at the trio at the door and then suddenly realized there were young women there. He gave a yelp, tried to cover his boxers with one hand and shut the door with the other. Thompson giggled.

Knives leaned toward the door and called, "Get ready to leave! We'll be waiting in the lobby!"

After a short while, Doublefang came down in his white shirt and black pants with a duffel bag thrown over his shoulder and his cloak slung over the bag.

"Good morning, guys. Sorry about that."

Stryfe handed him a pre-packaged muffin. "We got you a little breakfast."

"Oh! Hey, thanks!" Then he added, "Hey, Kni- uh..." he dropped his voice to a whisper as he leaned closer to Knives. "What should I call you in public?"

"Kevin Smith."

"Okay. Hey, Kevin? I need to run some errands today, and I don't know how long they'll take me. Is there someplace I can meet up with you guys again later today?"

That annoyed Knives a bit. But still, Doublefang was joining him on short notice, so it was natural that he may have things to take care off before he would be able to dedicate himself entirely to Knives. "I'll be staying the night in Wynona," Knives answered. "You can meet me there tonight. I'll be running an errand today as well, so it won't be convenient for us to try and meet up again before then."

"Alright, sounds good!" Doublefang smiled at the pair of young women. "See you! Good luck!"

Fortunately, Livio had his own vehicle. It let him run into December City on errands for the orphanage and also let him travel farther if he was going after a bounty. That morning, as he drove to his destination, he thought over a few things.

If asked what the most important thing in life was, many different people would give many different answers. But for Livio the clear answer was family. Those at the orphanage, including Nicholas D. Wolfwood, were everything to him. Wolfwood had been the first person to truly care about him, and it was that friendship that ultimately led Livio to change his life for the better. And those at the orphanage had allowed him back, even after Wolfwood's death, giving him the acceptance and belonging that he had sought for his entire life. His family knew his past and present, knew his strengths and weaknesses, knew his favorite foods and that he was secretly afraid of insects, knew his hat was extra special but that he didn't mind if they made fun of his tattoo a little bit.

So if he was going to associate with Knives, and if Knives was rethinking his views on humans, Livio wanted to know as much about him as possible. And for that, he wanted to speak to Knives's family.

He sought out a plant dome. It took time to reach a city that had one, but he finally pulled his car into a nearby parking lot and took a good look at it. He had never been near one before. It was enormous, nestled among the ruins of the SEEDS ship. Taking the opportunity to circle part of the dome, he found that the solid wall of the dome was broken up by windows at the ground level that he could only assume belonged to offices and other rooms used by the human staff. As he followed the wall around, he was surprised to find the wall of the dome transition into glass. He stepped to the glass and took a look inside.

The glass section took up about a quarter of the dome. Inside, most of the dome was one massive room. Along the sides and in the area there had been windows, there were indeed individual rooms, all in a row in a C shape around the edge of the dome. Some had normal doors, while others had large, round doors, presumably to accommodate the large bodies and wings of the plants. But the main room was the most interesting by far. A good portion of the floor, which was originally tiled, as far as Livio could tell, was overgrown with grass, some of which had small flowers. In the center was a young tree. And in the room, hovering about like faeries in their garden, were the plants. They clustered together in small groups, holding hands and resting against each other, as unspoken conversations passed between them. Livio had seen pictures of plants, but never any in person. He had always found them bizarre looking, while at the same time strangely beautiful, and he stared transfixed through the glass entranced at what he was seeing. With it's grass and plants, it was like looking into a completely different world.

Livio suddenly realized he had been spotted. A plant was passing by a little closer to the glass than the rest and stopped, hovering in the air, to look back at him. Livio gave a small guilty start, but the plant smiled at him. She drew closer until she rested her hands on the glass.

Livio took a small step back. "Uh... hi."

Her eyes were blank, nothing but milky white orbs. Livio found that a little unnerving: a feeling which only grew as he came under the impression that she was looking him over. Then she waved him toward the other end of the glass portion of the wall. Livio walked along the wall while she trailed alongside him. On the other side, shortly after the wall became solid again, there was another large round door. This door opened outward, and the plant drifted gracefully out of it.

_Oh gosh, they can just leave!_ Livio thought, feeling a little horrified. Why did this scare him? He wasn't afraid of her, certainly. Perhaps he was afraid something would happen to her. Or perhaps he was now being approached person-to-person by a very strange, nude woman, and he honestly had no idea how to respond to that.

Something long and thin snaked out from behind her and stretched toward Livio. It was a long feather. He reflexively stepped back away from it. When he looked to the plant, she made a grabbing motion. Livio pointed at the feather, giving her a questioning look. She nodded. So, very cautiously, Livio reached out and took hold of the feather lightly between his finger and thumb. Then the plant made a motion as if touching something to her forehead.

_This is so weird,_ Livio thought, as he hesitantly mirrored the motion, touching the feather lightly to his head.

Hello, a female voice said.

Livio gave a start, going wide eyed. The voice hadn't come in through his ears, but had skipped right to his brain. It reminded him a bit of when he heard Razlo's voice in his head, and for a brief moment, he wasn't sure if he had heard the plant, or if a new female personality was introducing herself. He clung to the idea that it was the plant, because the idea of a female living inside his male body made him incredibly uncomfortable.

Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. The plant looked concerned. This is the only way I can talk to you. Is that alright?

"Oh... uh... yeah. That's okay. Oh, uh, hi. I'm Livio."

She smiled again. Hello, Livio.

"You... You shouldn't just come out here and start talking to strangers, you know," Livio said. "That's not safe. There are a lot of people who don't like plants."

I know, she said, looking a little sad. But you... feel... good.

"I... I'm sorry, what?"

She frowned a little. I don't know how to say it. With my telepathy... you seem... good.

"Oh!" Livio was a little pleased and a little embarrassed. He wondered if this meant she could read his mind, but decided he didn't really want to know. Looking for a distraction from that train of thought, he blurted, "I like your tree!"

She smiled. Thank you! We created the tree and grass ourselves. We wanted to fill the whole dome with them, but our human friends don't want us to. She hunched her shoulders a little, looking rueful. They don't like us to use our power.

"Oh... I see... Well, it seems to me, after using your power for us for so long, that you deserve some trees and flowers for yourself."

She beamed at that. Then she asked, Why are you here, Friend Livio?

"Uh, well, I... I know your brother."

That caught her attention. Which one?

"Well, I hung out with Vash for a while, but that was about a year ago." He smiled. "I really liked him."

She beamed. But then the smile faded. Did you know he... he died?

"Yeah... Knives told me."

He told us, too. He spoke to one of the other plant domes, but our sisters there were able to pass the message along. They said he only came close enough to speak to them telepathically, gave the message, and then went away again. None of us have seen or heard from him since then. But we believe him. He's done many terrible things, but we don't believe he would lie to us about that.

"Actually, Knives is the reason I'm here."

We don't know where he is! she said quickly. We've said so over and over. So if you're trying to catch him-

"No, no, no! That's not it! I don't want to catch him. I... I want to help him."

That gave her pause for thought. Then she asked, Do you already know where he is?

"Yeah. I found him yesterday. I said I wanted to stick around, and he said I could."

And... why do you want to help him, she asked, sounding a bit wary.

"Well... he seems like maybe there are some things he's trying to work out. I want to help him figure out the right thing to do."

She looked at him a moment, her expression softening. Quietly, she said, Thank you.

He smiled at that, feeling a little embarrassed. "It's... it's nothing, Miss Plant. I'm just hoping things might turn out alright with him."

Is he... What is he like... now that it's all over? Is he... is he still very angry?

Livio thought for a moment. "I can't say for sure, because I've only just run into him yesterday. Well... he comes off as being kind of grumpy. But he did tell me that he'd rather not kill anyone. So there's that. I was wondering if you all might be able to give me any advice. I'm sure you all know him better than anyone."

As the conversation had gone on, a few other plants had taken notice and drifted over to see what was going on. Livio had tried to ignore them and focus on the one he was speaking with, but they came up to the glass, and looked over each other's shoulders until there was a small crowd. Livio was beginning to feel like a pet lizard in an aquarium, with a group of children all crowded at the glass to see him. He finally decided to bring the rest into the conversation, and as he spoke the words, "if you all might be able to give me any advice," he looked around at the group to address them as well.

The plant took a moment to relay the message to her sisters, her voice still within Livio's head, but quieter as she addressed someone other than himself. The plants all looked about at each other, in what Livio hoped was silent conversation on Knives.

After a moment, she turned back to him. Well... the thing about Knives is... he's complicated.

"Oh," Livio responded. "I, uh... I already kind of figured that."

Well... she fell into thoughtful silence. Knives... he... One of the other plants caught her attention and the two looked to each other as they spoke a moment. Then she nodded and turned back to Livio. Perhaps it would be helpful to you, if you knew what caused him to hate humans?

"Okay, sure! Tell me that, then."

When we were... I don't really know the word... When he was taking us, and we were a part of him and he was a part of us... all of our thoughts and memories came together, and we knew things about Knives that we didn't before, because his mind was in our mind. And some of us found a memory from when he was a child. He and Vash were raised by a human mother, and they were happy together. But then he learned that there had been another like himself and Vash that had been born first. The humans who cared for her didn't treat her as an equal, and she died because of the way she was treated.

Livio gave a whimpering noise. He hadn't had a good childhood either. He didn't know the details of how the child had been treated, but his heart went out to her.

When Knives and Vash learned about her... Vash was... understanding... he was forgiving... But Knives... He was never the same. He felt that there was a certain way that humans _are,_ and because of that, they could never live in harmony with other species. He felt that the only way to keep us safe was to kill them all.

"Oh man," Livio murmured. "That's harsh."

There's something else we want you to know about him. she added. He _does_ love us. And he loved Vash, too, in a way. We know they were enemies for many years, but when we were with him, we could tell he would have much rather had Vash as a friend and a brother than as an enemy. We want you to know, he's not all anger. He's able to love, too.

"Thanks," Livio said. "I think that helps." He thought for a moment, and then added, "Is it alright if I ask you a question?"

We don't mind.

"Do you... do you still love Knives?"

She was quiet a moment, and Livio saw that the plants all looked at him with a sadness in their expression.

The things that have happened... It has hurt us... very badly... We wanted our freedom, but... not like that... But he's still our brother, and we understand why he acted the way he did. We still love him. But... perhaps it's for the best that he's been keeping his distance from us.

"But..." Livio mirrored their sad expressions. "Okay, look, now let me tell _you_ a story, alright? I've done a lot of terrible things, too. There are a lot of things that I really regret. But I decided to go back to the people that I hurt the most and apologize to them. It was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life! But they decided to forgive me, and they let me stay with them. Their love and forgiveness... that's done more for me than anything ever could! If it's possible that Knives could change, then you have no idea how much it could help him to know that you still love him! If he doesn't come here, then you need to go to him if you can!"

The plants fell silent. Many of them lowered their gaze.

Finally, she said very quietly, I'm not sure that we're ready for that yet.

"But..." Livio looked up at them helplessly. Then he lowered his head. "Okay... Just... Just think about it, alright?"

They still stayed silent.

Then one of them looked back into the building and got the attention of the rest. The plant speaking with Livio listened to her unspoken words, and then turned back to him. One of our human friends is coming! You should go, so they don't ask questions about who was here and why they came. We'll tell them that... uh... there was a puppy! There was a puppy at the window!

Livio couldn't help laughing at that. "Okay! Good bye!"

Good bye, Friend Livio! And thank you. Thank you for being good to Knives.

The feather moved gracefully back to the plant, who slipped through the door again. The group at the glass dispersed. Livio slipped away.


	8. Chapter 8 - A Canyon Detour

CHAPTER 8

A Canyon Detour

Meryl was not overly fond of insects. She never had been, but she had memories of her encounter with Zazi the Beast that occasionally haunted her dreams. While she couldn't remember what exactly had happened, she could remember a split second of an insect swarm and then waking up to a dead bug in her mouth. She tried very hard not to piece together what exactly that meant. She also tried not to wonder how many insects had gotten inside her and if there were ones she _hadn't_ spit out.

Which is why it was probably a good thing Knives didn't tell them where they were going and why.

With the stolen vehicle towed and returned to it's owner, Knives, Meryl and Milly took public transportation to the town of Wynona. After that, they set out into the desert.

Meryl wished Knives had given them better warning. Renting a tomas was expensive, but they had walked far enough that she wished they had done so. Fortunately, she and Milly had refilled their canteens before leaving out of habit. Most people on No Man's Land knew to check their water before leaving town.

Ever since their conversation in the hotel that morning, Knives has been acting like Meryl and Milly didn't exist. The pair of young women were left trailing after him without any knowledge of what his plans were. It reminded Meryl very much of when they had been following Vash for Bernardelli's. It seemed that that was another way in which the two brothers were similar. She wished he'd stop being like Vash.

While avoiding all conversation with Knives was preferable to her, Meryl was about to break down and ask where they were going and how much farther it was. But just as she opened her mouth, Milly gasped and said, "Oh, what's that?"

It was a canyon. From a distance, and coming up on a canyon from the side, they were hard to see until a person was nearly on top of them. One side of the chasm simply blended in with the other side so that the land looked unbroken. When they reached it, Knives stood on the edge, looking downward thoughtfully.

Meryl and Milly cautiously sidled toward the edge to join him.

"Aren't you afraid of heights?" Milly asked no one in particular. "They make me nervous."

"No." Knives said.

"Oh. I suppose not," Milly said. "After all, you were very high up when you were... you know... back then... on your flying thingy."

"Yes." Knives said.

"Are you going to climb down here?" Milly asked.

"No." Knives said.

Milly looked up and down the cliff edge. "I guess there's probably a trail down into the canyon, isn't there?"

"Yes." Knives said.

Meryl crossed her arms and gave Knives a sideways look. "And the conversational artist of the year award goes to: Millions Knives."

Knives ignored her and began walking along the canyon edge.

Soon they found a sloping trail downward and took it. The trail was rough and very narrow in some places and didn't seem well used, but not so rough as to be dangerous. The danger came from trying to take in the canyon as they went. The walls were smoothed by wind erosion, and were marked by horizontal layers in different shades of tan, brown and red.

"This is really pretty!" Milly said to herself.

Meryl would have thought so, too, but was busy wondering what kind of business Knives would have here.

The bottom of the canyon was fairly smooth and easy to walk along, while the walls of the canyon began to change slightly as they went. Meryl began spying caves in the walls, but, strangely, they looked almost unnatural. They were very round, and always seemed to have some kind of ledge running from the hole along the cliff face.

She thought through a variety of vehicles, but couldn't think of any that would be suited for round tunnels. The caves ought to have a flat bottom to them to accommodate cars. And while tomases could surely navigate a curved floor, they would have easier going on a flat surface. But if the tunnels weren't for transportation, why were there trail-like ledges leading to and from them?

One such ledge slipped down to the ground like a ramp, and Knives headed up it, with the two women trailing behind. The ramp flattened and ran horizontally for a time, and Meryl could spot the ajoining tunnel ahead. As they walked, she realized that even the ledges had a rounded surface to them. She had the ridiculous mental image of perfectly round boulders emerging from the tunnels and rolling down the ledges. While she knew boulders certainly didn't come perfectly rounded, it was the only explanation she could think of.

"Hey, I think maybe I've heard of this canyon," Milly commented. "Is this that canyon that's supposed to have the sandworm hive living in it?"

Meryl stopped dead in her tracks. Milly bumped into her.

"Yes," Knives answered, without stopping or looking back.

Slowly, Meryl's gaze went from the rounded floor of the ledge, along it's length, and to the round tunnel entrance.

"Oh no," she said.

Then, as if summoned by the mention of it's species, there was a sound from the tunnel entrance, as if something very large were being dragged against the ground. It grew louder quickly, until finally an enormous, green tinted head emerged. Meryl and Milly cried out and took hold of each other. The sandworm, however, reared up like a snake and looked downward at Knives. Knives looked back at it with complete calm.

There was a long pause. Then the sandworm opened it's mouth wide and launched itself forward at Knives. He jumped to the side, pressing himself against the cliff face as the sandworm's head shot past him. Then it reared back and struck again. This time there was an incredible _crack_ as it's snout hit the canyon wall and crumbled rock with the force. Knives was caught in it's mouth and lifted into the air. There was a glint of sunlight on gun metal from Knives's hand, followed by the bang of a gunshot, and the sandworm dropped Knives, who hit the ledge, rolled off, and went rolling and skidding down the face of the canyon wall. Blood oozed from the sandworm's face.

In Meryl's shock, it took her a moment to begin fumbling for her derringers, and it wasn't until now that she had them at the ready and fired on the sandworm. The guns' small shots didn't seem to penetrate the sandworm's tough hide, but the creature flinched. Then it turned it's sight on Meryl and Milly.

As the sandworm reared back and then launched itself at them, Meryl was shoved aside by Milly who fired her stungun. The shot punched the sandworm in the face, stopping it in its tracks. For a moment, it seemed too stunned to attack.

"What do we do?" Meryl asked.

"I don't know," Milly answered. "I can hold it off for a bit, but I only have so many shots. Is Mr. Knives okay?"

"Who cares!" Meryl cried.

But the sandworm did. When it regained itself, it turned its attention back to Knives, who was back on his feet again on the canyon floor. It reared back, and Meryl knew what was coming. A thought struck her, and she acted instantly, raising a derringer and aiming for one of its many eyes. She fired.

The sandworm made a terrible noise, like a scream overlayed with insect-like rattling clicks. It shook it's head side to side and it's long body writhed.

"Woah! Good shot!" Milly cried.

The sandworm began to withdraw, snaking backward into the tunnel it emerged from.

"Wait! Wait!" Knives scrambled up the cliff face and clambered onto the ledge. He reached the sandworm head laying on the ground as it slithered backward. Leaning on the end of the snout, he cried, "Will you _listen_ to me!"

The sandworm paused. A very long moment passed, in which neither moved. Finally, the moment drew on so long, Meryl leaned toward Milly and asked, "What exactly is going on here?"

"I have no idea!"

What was happening was this: As they entered the canyon and drew near to the sandworm, Knives was able to sense it telepathically, and knew it would sense him and investigate sooner or later. When the sandworm emerged from it's tunnel, it looked down at Knives and spoke to him.

It didn't speak English, but through telepathically sensing the general idea behind the "words," Knives was able to understand it well enough.

Not human. Plant?

Yes, Knives answered.

Which?

I'm Millions Knives.

Apparently, that was the wrong answer, because with that, the sandworm attacked. All through the conflict, Knives had been telepathically screaming at it to stop the attack and listen to him, but to no avail. It wasn't until the sandworm had felt itself defeated, shocked and pained by it's sudden blindness in one eye, that it finally stopped.

I'm here to ask for your help! Knives told it.

No! No help! You killed Zazi. You killed sister hive.

I know. Zazi turned on me, Knives explained.

Killed Zazi. Killed queen. Killed whole hive. Too much.

Knives was unmoved by the thought. He had wanted to ensure Zazi wouldn't try anything a second time and felt justified in his actions. But changing the subject seemed like a good idea nonetheless. I don't want to kill you, or any other sandworms. I need your help. The humans have a weapon and it could hurt the sandworms, too. We should form an alliance and work to take the weapon from them.

The sandworm paused to consider this. Hurt how?

It's called a nuclear bomb. The humans are entering a civil war, and might use it to kill each other. But the bomb leaves behind radiation that's harmful to the environment. It will harm any living things in a large area around the bomb's explosion.

Hurt how? It asked again. Knives could sense a growing concern in the sandworm.

Anything that survived the explosion, but was still very close to it, would grow sick and die. The rest of the living things in the area might suffer a variety of effects: infertility, mutated offspring, cancer... Sandworms have never had to deal with this kind of radiation before, so it's impossible to say what exactly would happen.

The sandworm was definitely growing unnerved. What cancer?

It means a lump grows in your body and keeps growing until it kills you.

And... mutations?

Who knows? Stunted growth? Extra limbs? Deformities?

The sandworm was silent a moment. Then, Why humans want bomb?

Because it kills a lot of people. They like knowing they can kill a lot of people easily if they really want to. Having a weapon like that lets them bully and threaten each other.

Humans... The word the sandworm followed up with was hard for Knives to translate well, but "disgusting" and "disturbing" both came fairly close.

You're telling me! he grumbled. If you help me find it and take it, you'd be doing yourself and all the other living things on this planet a favor.

There was a pause. Then the sandworm said, No.

No!? What do you mean, 'No!'

Millions Knives... no trust. Killed Zazi. Might kill Yazto, too.

I won't!

No trust! Sandworms take care of sandworms. No alliance.

But- Before Knives could say more, the sandworm receded again, jerking its head out from under Knives's hands so quickly he nearly fell forward.

The sandworm disappeared into the tunnel.

Knives turned back to the girls and threw up his arms in exasperation. "Well _that_ was a waste of time!"


	9. Chapter 9 - War and Conflict

CHAPTER 9

War and Conflict

The next morning, Meryl and Milly woke up early again to catch Knives. But this time he didn't come. Worried that he might have given them the slip, they knocked on the door, but were reassured when an angry voice shouted at them to go away and let him sleep.

They were joined for breakfast by Livio, and since he was fairly sure Knives wouldn't leave without him, the trio decided to stick together for the day until Knives said anything otherwise.

During their breakfast, the young women asked Livio what he had done the day before, to which he seemed slightly embarrassed and evasive, and told them it was only personal errands he needed to run. They told him about the encounter with the sandworm. Livio frowned thoughtfully at that.

"What?" Milly asked. "What are you thinking?"

"Well... I was just thinking... back in the day, Knives had someone working for him who... had a thing... with sandworms..."

Meryl raised an eyebrow. "A... thing?"

"A... relationship?" Livio offered.

"That doesn't make it sound any less creepy," Meryl grumbled.

Livio explained Zazi the Beast to them as best he could, although he didn't know very much. Hearing it made Meryl very uncomfortable. Part of her was thinking that she would rather Knives didn't try to rally followers and was grateful he hadn't succeeded in the canyon the previous day. But a larger part of her was remembering her own encounter with Zazi and his insects. It shed a little light on what she had been through, but the insight only made her feel more disturbed by it. She didn't finish her breakfast. She was feeling a bit nauseous.

After breakfast, they went into town to kill some time. It was their first real look at Wynona, and the impression was not favorable. It was still in Earth Federation control, but was near enough to the seceding towns, that the topic of the Native Republic was popular, polarizing, and passionate. One shop had a hand-written sign in the window stating, "Earthers Not Welcome!" While walking the main street, they passed a small group in a heated discussion. Another shop had an Earth Federation flag hung in the window. A restaurant had a sign reading, "Natives get a free beer. Earthers pay double."

They found a newspaper stand and did a little reading. (Meryl did the real reading. Livio could read, but poorly, and only listened to Meryl as she recapped the stories. Milly read the comics.) Native militias were gathering themselves into an actual army. A few towns were still in conflict with Earth Federation authorities. The president was due to give an address that afternoon, and it was expected that he make the deciding announcement: either recognizing the Native Republic as new country, or refuse and declare civil war.

When it was time for the address, they returned to the hotel to watch it on the TV in the lobby. There was a crowd of other hotel patrons already there, and they stood at the back of the crowd.

Within the first minute, they could guess which choice had been made. The president looked too grim, almost angry. The address was fairly short and to the point. Without Earth aid, they would only dwindle and slowly die out, just as they all had done on that planet for a hundred fifty years before Earth came. And besides that, there were plants still being used for power, and breaking away would significantly delay their freedom. It was in everyone's best interest if they remained under the Earth government, and it was his duty to ensure that they did. And if it meant forcing them, then he would force them. The address reminded Meryl of something akin to a parent lecturing a child. "I know what's good for you, and if you won't listen, I'll make you do it anyway."

Meryl herself sided with the Earth Federation, and under ordinary circumstances, would have found some satisfaction in the belief that the right choice had been made. Yet inwardly, she tensed and grew anxious. The chances of the bomb being used had just significantly increased.

The trio exchanged grim looks. Then Meryl caught sight of Knives. He, too, was hovering at the back of the crowd listening to the address, and she caught sight of him just as he turned to go back to his room. She hadn't liked that he had spent all day holed away in his room. She didn't trust him enough to feel comfortable with that. So she went after him, tugging at Milly's sleeve as she did as a way of saying, "Come with me."

"Kni- uh, Kevin! Hey!"

He ignored them, but they caught up to him as he waited for the elevator.

"What have you been doing all day?" Meryl asked.

"Nothing," he said, and gave her a look that clearly showed that he might have been doing any number of things, but was certainly not going to condescend to tell her any of it.

"Don't nothing me!" Meryl snapped. "Is this the first time you've left your room?"

Knives ignored her and looked to the elevator doors.

"Hey, I have an idea," Livio offered. "Let's go get dinner. All of us. I'm getting hungry. Kevin, you haven't eaten all day, have you?"

_Good thinking,_ Meryl said. Then, at least, they could keep an eye on him for a short time.

Knives looked unhappy at this and seemed to be thinking. It was likely that he really hadn't eaten, but didn't want to admit to being hungry if it meant having to socialize with them.

Livio prompted him further. "What do you like? Burgers? Italian? Mexican? You know what I could go for? A bacon cheeseburger."

"Oh!" Milly lit up. "With a chocolate shake! And fries! I like dipping my fries in my shake, do you?"

"No, I've never done it. You should see the kids at the orphanage, though. They'll dip anything they've got into all kinds of stuff. One time one of them was dipping his potato chips into his lemonade."

"That's disgusting!" Knives snapped. "You're not helping my appetite. Look, if I go eat with you, will you leave me alone again?"

"Yes," Meryl said, taking what she could get.

Dinner was slightly awkward. Knives seemed disgruntled and distant. He spoke when spoken to and was short and vague in his answers. Meryl was also mildly distracted, wondering about Knives and what might come next. Milly and Livio managed to relax a little and make small talk during the dinner. Meryl wished she could stop worrying long enough to join them.

As they walked back to the hotel, Knives stopped the group. They stepped into a gap between buildings to avoid blocking the path of the few pedestrians that were nearby.

"Look," Knives said, looking to Meryl and Milly. "I've decided what I'm going to do. Doublefang is going to join me. You, however, are not. This is where we part."

Meryl instantly protested. "What? We'll go with you if we want to!"

"No. You won't. I've humored you more than enough. We're leaving tomorrow, and you will _not_ be coming with us."

"Oh yes we will! If Vash isn't here to take care of you, then we will be! And we won't leave Livio to keep an eye on you all by himself!"

"I do not need a gang of babysitters!" Knives cried. "And stop saying that you're replacing Vash! Vash wasn't my babysitter, either!"

"Vash was the one making sure you didn't wipe out the planet!"

"I'm not trying to wipe out the planet right now! And stop talking as if we were archenemies! We were brothers!"

"You _weren't_ archenemies!?" Meryl cried, her face growing red with anger. She drew closer to him, pointing a finger at him. "I was _there!_ I was with Vash when you sent people to kill him! I was _kidnapped_ by them to be used as bait! I was there when he faced you at Octovern! I was _by his side_ when he separated you from the other plants! _I_ was the one he spoke to last, before he faced you for the last time! And from where I'm standing, it looks pretty damn obvious you were the worst enemy he could possible have!"

"_Don't you even try to pretend that you understand! You understand nothing!_"

"It's not hard to misunderstand the fact that you hated him!"

"_I did not HATE him! He was my BROTHER!_"

"_Then you should have acted like it! I was the one who actually cared about him! I was the one who wanted him to be safe! And happy! I put my life at risk for him! What did YOU ever do for him!_"

"_You don't understand! You could NEVER understand! He was my brother, and I loved him! I wanted those things, too! I wanted him by my side! You have NO IDEA the PAIN that his death has caused me!_"

"_Then you should have thought of that before you killed him!_"

Knives backhanded her. Meryl went to the ground. Livio cried out. Milly stepped forward and punched Knives in the face.

"Don't you hit her! Don't you _dare_ hit her!"

Knives stumbled backward, shocked at her strength. It took him a brief second to recover, and then he launched himself at her. For a moment, there was nothing but confusion, as the two grappled with each other, grabbing clothes and hair, trying to throw punches, trying to hold tight to the other or break away from them. Milly repeated her cry of "Don't you hit her!" while Knives cursed at her with every spare breath he had.

They were only at it for a moment before Knives wrenched himself away from her. As soon as he was free, he drew his gun and pointed it at her face.

"No!" Livio jumped forward, knocking Knives's hand upward. The shot fired into the air. Instantly, Livio had Knives's wrist in his hand and twisted his arm behind his back, causing him to drop the gun. Then Livio shoved him against the wall.

Milly stood breathing heavily, her face pale and her hair in a mess and hanging in her face. Knives struggled against Livio while cursing at him.

"Milly," Livio said over his shoulder, "take Meryl and go back to the hotel."

Milly ignored him, and instead told Knives, "I _hate_ you!"

That only spurred Knives on, and Livio nearly lost him, but managed to keep him pinned. "Milly!" Livio snapped. "Take Meryl back to the hotel! Now!"

Milly hesitated, giving Knives hateful looks. Then she turned back to her friend. Meryl was climbing slowly to her feet. The side of her face was red, and tears were streaming down her face. She was trembling all over.

Milly softened a little. "Are you okay?" she asked quietly.

Meryl nodded.

"Are you sure?"

Another nod. Then, in a voice that trembled a little despite the anger in it, she said, "Let's just get out of here." She walked quickly out into the street and Milly followed.

Livio continued pressing Knives against the wall as he said, "Look, I understand why you're angry, but I will _not_ allow you to shoot any of my friends. Now I'm going to let you go, and I'm going to let you pick up your gun, but if you try to use that gun to hurt my friends or myself, I will _not_ allow you to do that!"

"Don't tell me what to do, you filthy _human._ I can do whatever I want! I'm ten times what you'll ever be!"

"I don't care if you're ten times what a human is. Right now, your only weapon is a handgun, and you're talking to someone who's got ten times the experience using one. You got that?"

Knives didn't answer. Livio let him go, and he jerked away from him. Knives's first action was to spit at Livio, who calmly took it. Then Knives picked up the gun and holstered it. He left, but not without giving Livio a look of intense hatred.

Livio took a deep breath. He was intensely grateful Knives didn't have his angel arm anymore. He was sure that all three of them would be dead right now if he did.

That night, no one got much sleep. Meryl cried out of anger. Knives stayed up sitting in the hotel room armchair with his arms folded, frowning furiously at nothing. Livio flopped onto his bed and spent a long time staring at the ceiling.

And then Livio had an unexpected visitor.

{Heeeey, Livio!}

Livio blinked in surprise. _Razlo?_

{No, it's Santa Claus! Yes, it's Razlo! Who else talks to you inside your own head!}

_Wow, it's been a while. We haven't really spoken since Elendira, right? Oh, and by the way, plants also talk to me inside my head, apparently._

{Yeeeaaaah... About that...}

Cautiously, Livio asked, _What?_

{You know how you had that thought about there being another personality who's a chic?}

_Yeah._

{Well... there is a chic in here, too. I've just been waiting for a good time to tell you.}

"What!?" Livio cried aloud, sitting up on the bed.

{Gotcha! Bahahahaha!}

Livio groaned while Razlo continued laughing. _Is this why you decided to talk to me again after all this time? To pull a prank on me? _He flopped backward again.

Razlo abruptly stopped laughing. {No! I have something important to talk to you about!}

_Well, what is it?_

{How about we talk about the topic of: YOU'RE A MORON!}

_What! What did I do!_

{Since you're a moron, I'll recap for you. I'll even use small words.}

Livio frowned grumpily at that.

{You spot Millions-Freakin'-Knives, the most dangerous man on the planet, capable of killing hundreds instantly with his freaky arm thingy. And you decide to get into a fight with him!}

_I had a plan!_ Livio protested. _I was going to try and pick him off while his back was turned, and if there were any signs of weird plant stuff, I'd make a run for it!_

{And then,} Razlo continued, as if he hadn't heard, {You happen to find him again. And you attack him AGAIN!}

Livio sighed.

{And THEN, you decide to sign up for Gung-Ho-Guns: The Next Generation!}

_No! I didn't mean to! I just wanted to help him!_

{Helping Knives MEANS BEING A GUNG-HO-GUN, YOU MORON!}

Livio sighed again.

{Okay, let me explain something else. And I'll keep using small words.}

_That's because your vocabulary isn't big enough for anything else,_ Livio thought to himself.

{I heard that! I heard that! You can have your big fancy-shmancy words, and shove them up your-}

_Just explain to me the thing you were going to explain to me,_ Livio interrupted.

{Right. Let's make a little list, okay Livio? Let's make a list, you and me, of people we've tried to suck up to, who never cared about us, and who just ended up being jackasses.}

_Let's not!_ Livio said quickly.

{Number one:... your dad.}

"No!" Livio said aloud. Hearing that person mentioned had been like a punch in the stomach. It was an unspoken agreement between Livio and Razlo that he was never brought up. Ever.

{Number two:... Master C.}

_Razlo, stop it!_

{Number three, the one you're suckin' up to right now: Knives.}

Livio felt a little sick, having his current situation presented to him in that way.

{You're hangin' out with the wrong group of people, Livio! Why are you settin' yourself up like this! I thought you were smarter than that! I thought we had both learned somethin'!}

_Okay! Okay! I get it!_

{Oh, by the way,} Razlo added. {Every minute your with Knives, I'm sittin' here with my hands an inch from the steering wheel, waiting for when I need to take over and save your ass. I don't like it.}

_Okay, look, let me stick around him for a while. If things get out of hand, or if time passes, and it doesn't look like he'll change his opinion on humans, then I'll leave. And if he seems dangerous, then you're totally free to take over if you feel like you need to._ He felt he was being generously trusting of Razlo by saying that. He hoped he wouldn't regret it.

{I don't need your permission, Dorkus. I'll take over whenever I want!}

_Okay. Whatever. You do that._

{I will!}

_Okay!_

{Okay!}

_Fine!_

A silence fell. Then Livio added, _I forgot how exhausting it is to have conversations with you sometimes._

{Yeah, well... your face is exhausting!}

_We have the same face!_ Livio cried, throwing up his arms in exasperation.

{Yeah, about that. You really need to shave half our head again. We look so much cooler that way.}

_Razlo, please stop talking._

Author's Note: Part of this chapter was inspired by true events. I distinctly remember a day, when I was very young, in which my younger sister did indeed dip her potato chips in her lemonade. I just wanted you all to know that.


	10. Chapter 10 - Meryl and the Peace Force

CHAPTER 10

Meryl and the Peace Force

Early the next morning, Meryl woke up and, her head instantly full of the fight with Knives the night before, was unable to fall back asleep.

After a time, she quietly got up and got dressed, and left a note for Milly. Perhaps getting up and doing something, especially something that had to do with coffee, would help her feel better.

She got her coffee and a bowl of oatmeal at a small cafe, and sat in a booth by the window. The first sun was just coming up, by the looks of the light outside, and the rare early riser was walking past on the street. Meryl wished she could find it peaceful, but her mind kept wandering away from her to think of things she wished she had said and done in the argument.

"Excuse me."

Meryl gave a small start. She looked up to see a tall, blonde young woman. She was wearing a uniform, and she smiled down at Meryl as she said, "Are you Meryl Stryfe?"

"Oh! Uh, yes. I am." Being recognized from television happened from time to time. It always gave Meryl a bit of a self esteem boost when it did, and she was grateful for the distraction.

The woman held her coffee cup with one hand and offered to shake with the other. "It's good to meet you. I heard you were safe again. That's a relief."

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you," she said, smiling. "I'm taking some time off right now, but I'll be back to work again soon."

"Good, you should take some time off. You should pamper yourself for a while. Do you mind if I join you?"

"Of course not! Go right ahead!"

She slid into the other side of the booth. Then she said, "I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Chronica, with the Earth Federation Peace Force."

"It's good to meet you." Meryl gave a rueful smile and added, "It must be tough for someone from the Peace Force to be hanging around town right now. I hope no Native fanatics have given you any trouble."

"Oh, I'm fine," she waved it off. After taking a drink from her coffee, she added, "I'm not stationed in town. I'm just here on business. Any Native sympathizers won't bother me. I've got my own work I'm doing that's got nothing to do with this whole secession mess."

"Oh? What's that?" It seemed that, for months, the whole world had been nothing but protests and secession. It was strange to meet someone who seemed so unconcerned.

"I'm heading a unit that's been tasked with finding Millions Knives."

Meryl had taken a sip of her coffee and choked slightly. She coughed a moment and, in a rasping voice, said, "What?"

"Are you alright? Don't worry, we haven't heard that he's in the area, so there's nothing for you to worry about."

Meryl took another drink of coffee, trying to clear her throat. Then she said, "I heard the Peace Force had some kind of special plan for capturing him. Is that what you're doing?"

"Yes. In fact, _I'm_ the special plan. I was recruited into the Peace Force just to find Knives."

Meryl gave her a questioning look.

"I'm a plant, like him," Chronica said. She suddenly looked grim. "If anyone can find and detain him, I can. I can telepathically sense another plant, so he won't be able to hide in a crowd, and I can match his power."

Meryl stared at her a moment, paling slightly. "And why... why did you say you were in town?"

"We're heading for Native territory. Knives is likely to take advantage of the chaos and a disorganized new government to hide himself."

Meryl stared out the window, her heart pounding. Knives could walk down the street at any moment. Would Chronica know? Might they cross paths while they were both in town?

And if they did... would that be a bad thing?

Meryl remembered the fight the previous night. She remembered when they had met and she had held a gun to Knives's chest and had wanted to pull the trigger, but couldn't. If she couldn't... Chronica could.

But at the same time... Vash had died helping Knives escape Octovern. Would Knives's arrest and consequent execution disrespect his death? The thought of hurting Vash in any way was painful to her.

"Is something wrong?" Chronica asked.

"No," Meryl said quickly. Too quickly.

Gently, Chronica asked, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." Meryl looked back to her oatmeal and half-heartedly stirred it.

"Miss Stryfe, if you know anything, you can tell me."

"No, I don't know anything," she said, glancing up at Chronica and then instantly looking to her food again. "It's just... you know... talking about Knives. It brings back bad memories."

"I see," Chronica said, and Meryl wondered what exactly that meant.

Inwardly, Meryl began swearing. She was a bad liar. She knew it. If it was a part of her job, whether at Bernardelli's or at NLBC, she could be as friendly as she needed to be, even to someone she disliked. But forcing friendliness was different from flat out lying.

A silence fell between them. Meryl stopped pretending to be interested in her food, and sat staring at nothing. Her hand shook ever so slightly as she held her spoon.

After a moment, Chronica said quietly, "If you're afraid of him, we can give you protection. We can keep you safe until he's caught... You would be doing a lot of good, even if you could only tell me the smallest bit of information."

Meryl was finding it difficult to breath. Another long moment passed.

Finally, in a voice only just above a whisper, Meryl said, "You're right. He's heading for the Native Republic."

"Thank you, Miss Stryfe," Chronica said, her voice equally low. "How do you know this?"

"We crossed paths. It's a long story. If I were you... I'd keep an eye on any kind of military base in Native territory."

Chronica frowned at that. "What would Knives want at a military base? Is he after some kind of weapons or equipment?"

"It's not quite like that... I need to go." Meryl rose suddenly and headed for the door.

"Miss Stryfe!" Chronica called.

Meryl stopped with her hand on the door, but didn't look in Chronica's direction.

"Do you need protection?" Chronica asked.

"No," Meryl said quickly. "I need to get my stuff and go home. Knives won't come after me. He's got other things on his mind." She went out the door.

When Meryl got back to the hotel room, Milly was awake and dressed.

"Good morning, Meryl! Did you- Oh! What's wrong!"

She stood just within the doorway, her hands clenched into fists and her head bowed low.

"Nothing," Meryl said. "I had a bad morning, that's all." Then she was suddenly moving again, grabbing her suitcase and throwing it open. "We're leaving, Milly. I can't be with Knives anymore. We're leaving."

For a moment, Milly didn't move, but watched her friend with concern. Finally she said quietly, "Right. You're right. Let's go."

A little later that morning, the two women knocked on Livio's door. Meryl wanted to leave as soon as possible, but she knew Livio deserved a real good bye. When he answered the door, he was dressed and packing up his few possessions that were with him, and invited them into his room.

"So, uh, are you guys okay?" Livio asked. "I didn't sleep too well after what happened last night."

"We're fine," Meryl said quickly. "But Livio... We're leaving. And not because Knives wants us to. This was our choice. I just..." Meryl frowned and looked away. She continued in a low voice, "I can't handle being around that guy anymore."

"It's okay," Livio said gently. "I understand. I don't blame you."

"Livio," Meryl hesitated, wondering how to say what was on her mind. "I think you should leave, too."

He looked uncomfortable at that. "Thanks, Meryl, but... I think I need to stay." He forced a smile and added, "It's like you said, _somebody_ has to keep an eye on him, right? Don't worry about me. I think I can handle it."

For a moment, Meryl didn't answer. "Okay, but... if things start going badly, just bail, okay? I don't want you in trouble because of him. Just bail, okay?" _Bail right now, idiot! I don't want to see you arrest as some kind of accomplice!_

"Yeah, I will, don't worry," Livio said. "I've been through a lot, and I can handle some trouble. Don't worry about me. Really."

"Fine," Meryl said, very, very quietly.

There was a pause in which no one was entirely sure what to say.

Livio had a sudden thought and reached for the notepad by the phone. "Oh! Here! This is my phone number. When all this is over, I'll give the news station a call and let you both know I'm okay. And if you're ever in December for any reason, you give me a call, alright? We'll go grab some lunch or something."

That brightened the faces of both of them and they thanked him.

"Now, Mister Livio, you take care of yourself!" Milly told him.

"I will, I will."

Milly gave him a goodbye hug. Livio seemed caught off guard, and Meryl thought she saw him blush a little, but he hugged her back nonetheless. Meryl opted for a handshake instead.

Having said their goodbyes, the two left.


End file.
